


Bondslave

by destieljunkie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Dean, Dean!whump, Destiel - Freeform, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Forbidden Love, From Sex to Love, Historical AU, M/M, Master/Slave, Minor Character Death, Period-Typical Homophobia, Physical Abuse, Please read tags carefully if you are sensitive to issues such as slavery or dubious consent, Sexual Abuse, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2785874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destieljunkie/pseuds/destieljunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bondslave is held in a permanent position of servitude. Considered to be the personal property of his master. He has no rights and could even be used with impunity by his owner.<br/>Castiel Novak has been conditioned to follow this tradition from a young age. Brought up to believe slavery is an acceptable means of maintaining the running of an estate, and his family has the right to buy and sell men as if they were a commodity to be exchanged.<br/>A transfer from his brother forces him to look at life from a different perspective, forbidden love daring Castiel to hope his bondslave might just be the one to set them both free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Terrible consequences of a civil war forced people out of their homes and separated them. Fathers were taken from sons, and mothers watched helplessly as their children were lost to them forever. Crops were left untended - famine rushing in like a plague of locusts to devour all that was left. It followed a harsh winter and all those who were strong enough to tend the fields or to fight, were taken or sold to the slave owners to ensure their own land was farmed. Their houses kept in order.

Dean had been sick with fever the spring before. He was barely fifteen. The house had been marked and sealed shut. Left there to die. No one was prepared to take the risk the sickness might spread. His little brother had been captured, and sent across the plains to the south. Dean was determined to get well again, and rescue him from the hands of his oppressors. It took many weeks to recover enough strength to be able to free himself from his prison and search for the food he needed just to stay alive. His luck finally ran out when he was caught stealing fruit from the orchard on the borders of the local estate. Dean got taken straight to Michael and put to work on the land, just like most of the other men who had not been lost to the ravages of war and disease.

That was almost two summers ago. Dean was now in his seventeenth year, and one of the best slaves the Novak plantation managed to acquire. He worked hard and complained little, and was able-bodied enough to carry out some of the heavier chores. Some of the men were to be moved to another part of the estate because Michael sensed a tide of dissent starting to ripple through the camp. Targeting those he believed had been the instigators of a potential rebellion. Many of the boys were regularly beaten or used for sex, others working long shifts that went against any basic human rights sometimes observed by the other slave masters. Dean was still young and strong enough to work, but some of the more unmanageable ones were sent away on the last ship that sailed to the islands. Dean would have been with them if he hadn't managed to hold his temper and force himself to submit to the demands of his masters. It was his only chance of seeing Sam again, so he did as he was told. He knew the only alternative was to be shipped off with the others, never to return, so he had taken the beatings and was kept on in the household to tend the vines and provide a warm, young body that was entirely at the disposal of his master. Castiel’s father had always turned a blind eye to the abuse. The need to maintain a plentiful supply of line men and slaves surpassed all else. That was just how it had always been. He left with the last campaign and hadn't returned for almost a year. Everyone presumed he must be dead, so Lucifer took charge of the estate in his absence, but he had also been indoctrinated in the deplorable treatment of his charges. Just as indifferent to it as his father had been. Michael knew all too well what happened to some of the boys. Even though he never pretended to be oblivious to what was happening, he failed to openly acknowledge it either.

Castiel had never known anything else, but imagined so many things that might lie beyond the dull confines of the grounds. Never happy with his position in life, regardless of all the money and privilege that came with his birthright. Lucifer constantly berated him for being so green and inexperienced. Castiel could never seem to make them understand he wanted so much more from life, never believing he had any skills other than those he was duty-bound to maintain. Castiel abandoned all hope, and the conscience he tried hopelessly to conceal. Pleasing his brothers by simply copying their brutal and misguided philosophies.

Castiel woke early the next day, reluctantly forcing himself out of bed and pushing troubled thoughts away when he moved aimlessly out onto the verandah. He surveyed the Novak estate, and the vineyard he was entrusted to oversee in Michael’s name. There were rows of grapes as far as the eye could see. Men who worked the land looking like insects crawling through the many rows of Muscadine now plumping on the vine. He needed to receive the new batch of men who arrived at dawn. Castiel sighed at the inconvenience of having to get dressed at all, setting off to meet one of the drivers down at the slave quarters. Lucifer ordered him to take the men under his control. Make them understand what was expected of them. He knew what that implied. Castiel would do as he was asked, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Castiel had been conditioned to follow the tradition from a young age. Brought up to believe that slavery was an acceptable means of maintaining the running of an estate, and his family had the right to buy and sell men like they were a commodity to be exchanged. His heart sank while he strode purposefully towards the meager dwellings, forcing himself to swallow down his distaste. Compromise his own principles once more when he rounded the curve in the path.

Castiel arrived at the edge of the sprawling camp as the sun started to climb up the sky. There was the usual commotion of scuffling and noise while the men settled in line for his inspection, but most of them fell silent when he approached. He remained an acceptable distance away from the boy at the head of the line, pulling a silk handkerchief from one of his many pockets so he could cover his mouth. The driver shuffled towards him and attempted a rather pitiful grovel.

“Transfers from your brother, Master Castiel, sir.” He explained. The man was inarticulate and unpleasant to look at, but Michael kept him on anyway because he didn’t seem to hesitate at all when it came to disciplining the other men, and would do anything for a bottle of cheap gin. “Some of them was gettin’ out of hand. Master Michael said they needed to learn what it’s like to do a real day’s work.”

“I see.” Castiel said slowly, looking up and down the row of unfamiliar faces with disinterest. All forced to kneel in the dirt at his feet, wrists and ankles bound together with lengths of coarse flax. They looked tired and down-trodden, some of them bearing the obvious signs of what Michael liked to call ‘correction.’ The drivers were all too aware it had become customary for some of the masters on the estate to take one or two of the boys for their personal use, but never dared question it. Fear of inevitable reprisals was enough to keep them all compliant. Castiel was walking slowly backwards and forwards down the line, like he was deciding which one he would like to see bent over for him.

“That one will do.” Castiel proclaimed at last, pointing his cane towards a rather dishevelled looking boy at the end of the line. “The one with green eyes.” The boy looked up in alarm, eyes piercing through the canvas of dirt and sweat smeared across his face. He held Castiel’s gaze for a second longer than he knew he should, but couldn’t seem to look away. There was something desperately sad about the blue eyes that met his own. Lonely and lifeless. The moment was broken by the cruel sound of a whip lashing against the boy’s back.

“You.” A rough voice called out, when the driver moved back down the line of men. “Don’t you dare look at your master like that, you dog.” He spat, but the young boy stared back in defiance before another painful strike forced him to bow his head again. Searching frantically in the dust for something else to focus on. Castiel looked on in silence. The reprimand was well deserved, but he never really condoned the amount of physical punishment some of the men dealt out. The driver cussed under his breath and picked up a handful of dirt in case the insolent brat needed further persuasion. The young man Castiel had chosen was still on his knees when he was pushed roughly to the ground with a sharp kick against the middle of his back. He inhaled a steady breath while he stared at the space between his hands. Forcing himself not to get to his feet and show the man exactly what he thought of that. "Just the one today, sir?” The driver asked, leering at Castiel with a knowing smile while he unfastened the bonds from the boy his master singled out. Castiel nodded indifferently, brushing off an imaginary speck of dirt from his well-turned sleeve. He moved a little closer to carry out a more thorough inspection. Castiel prodded at the boy to encourage him to stand. 

“Get up. Let me look at you. I want to make sure you are going to be able to serve my needs well.” The boy felt a familiar twist in his stomach. He could guess well enough what that meant, preparing himself for the inevitable. The rest of the men were herded away without another word and they were left alone. Castiel steered his new slave into one of the dusty grain stores with a simple wave of his hand. He made no attempt to communicate with him. It was clear he had not the slightest interest in engaging him in conversation.

“Bend over, boy.” Castiel commanded, smoothing his hands down over the arch of his back until they were resting firmly on his hips and holding him in place. The boy held still while his new master reached down, pushing the tattered cloth over his ass so he was exposed just enough for Castiel to be able to take him. The slave dutifully bent over for him, already anticipating he would suffer the same miserable indignities he had been subjected to at the last plantation. Castiel traced his hole with a searching finger. He roughly pushed it in, groaning under his breath when it tightened around his touch. “Spread your legs wider, I want to see.” Castiel demanded, giving the boy a sharp smack on his butt to make sure he was responsive. Studying him for some time with silent judgement. The hole was already loosened up, abused and red. Obviously not the first time he got used like that.

The boy gritted his teeth and started to well up with the brutal force of it. Refusing to give this man the satisfaction of letting him know he was hurting him. He was all too familiar with being taken by the rich and powerful men who believed it was their God-given right to fuck him. There was no warning when Castiel lined himself up, suddenly starting to thrust into him with nothing more than a blunt desire to gratify himself. Leaving his new charge in no doubt who he belonged to. The boy took every pounding stroke with as much dignity as he still possessed, already suspecting his new master had no intention of making him come. He knew enough about men like this Castiel to know it was never about his pleasure, only theirs.

The boy closed his eyes, forcing his mind to drift away to a better place where he could feel the wind in his hair, the sun on his face. He pulled at happy memories of summers past, running through the tall golden corn with his little brother by his side. He was soon dragged back to the harsh reality of the dusty storehouse when he felt a fresh surge of something warm pulse into him. It was over so quickly. He felt Castiel slip out of his body with a grunt of satisfaction, and a small press against the dip of his back. The boy stretched when he stood a bit straighter, hitching up his pants in silence. Damp material sticking to the back of his thighs where the wet spread of release was still leaking out of him.

“What’s your name?” Castiel asked, tucking himself back in and dusting off the front of his jacket. He didn’t even look at the boy while he waited for him to reply. He didn’t answer straight away, so Castiel reached forward and gently tipped his head back so he could look at him. Resting one finger underneath his chin while he studied every line of his face. “What’s your name, slave?”

The young man hesitated, taking in a deep breath to try and settle the ache now throbbing between his legs.

“Winchester, _sir_.” He replied, remembering his place with some contempt. “Dean Winchester.” Something about the dignified way he proudly held his head up sent a wave of guilt through Castiel’s veins. He suddenly found himself wishing he could take it back, fumbling to reach inside his jacket.

“Here.” Castiel offered, pulling out a small silver coin from the silk-lined pocket of his waistcoat. “For your trouble.” Dean would have refused out of principle alone. He glanced at the coin in Castiel’s hand and shook his head.

“I don’t get paid for my services, sir. They get taken from me.”

Castiel slowly withdrew his arm, reluctantly dropping the penny back in his pocket. He hadn’t realized his hand was shaking.

“Of course… but you are new here, and I may have forgotten myself for a moment. I don’t usually take a boy so soon, and it was not a very gentle introduction to the estate.”

Dean continued to pull up his cotton pants until they were resting low on his hips, before slowly tightening his belt. His face was flushed pink with being doubled over but other than that, the experience didn’t seem to have affected him much at all. Castiel suspected it wasn't something he was unaccustomed to.

“I don’t expect anything in return, sir. You’re not the first.”

Castiel didn’t say anything. Something about that left a bitter taste in his mouth. He expected to hear him curse, or watch him struggle. Maybe even show he possessed some hint of emotion, like that would have justified it somehow. Dean had always prided himself on his resilience. The way he always managed to let his body be used like that without ever allowing himself to be haunted by it. He had enough hope left to believe one day things would be different. No one could ever take that from his heart, no matter how many injustices were taken out on him. There was just something inside that knew he needed to endure whatever these people forced upon him to make sure he had a fighting chance of getting Sammy back.

Dean held his head up and averted his eyes while Castiel adjusted his clothes and dabbed the sweat from his face. He left without another word, so Dean waited until he heard the sound of his boots slowly fade before collapsing to his knees in the dust while he willed the pain away. He heard a muffled order to put him back to work at once. Spending the rest of the afternoon picking fruit from the vines until his back was aching and his hands were sore. His only payment for a day’s hard graft was a bowl of watery soup and a chunk of bread. It was cold, and the bread was so stale he had to tear it apart with his teeth, but he was so hungry anything would have tasted wonderful and he wolfed down the lot in less than a minute.

Dean found the sleeping quarters unsanitary and confining. So many disheartened men forced together in such cramped conditions was a breeding ground for violence and the constant struggle for dominance. Dean had always been able to take care of himself, usually making it a rule to punch first and ask questions later. It was one of the first lessons he learned just after being taken. The paltry meal lay heavily on his empty stomach and he suddenly felt very sick. Dean stumbled over the other men in his haste to take in a breath of fresh air. As tired as he was, Dean knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep so he stayed outside and propped his weary body against the palisade of stones that marked some superficial boundary of a cage without bars. The evening drew in close. Summer air balmy and warm. Dean was standing at the edge of the slave quarters and staring up at the sky as the dusk gradually blended into night.

Castiel decided to take a walk after supper, soon finding himself taking a different route past the gazebo that night. He wandered aimlessly down towards the edge of the camp, stopping suddenly in the middle of the path when he saw the Winchester boy leaning up against the low stone wall, seemingly lost in thought. Castiel held his breath while he watched him from the cover of the overhanging trees. The air was so quiet and still he could hear the persistent thrum of his own heartbeat. He didn’t think Dean had noticed him until he heard his voice cut through the silence. His eyes never left the sky.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Sorry?”

“Stars. Beautiful. I could watch them for hours.”

Castiel looked back up at the house for a moment. The warm lamp light streamed out from the windows on the lower floor but there was no one else outside. He walked cautiously over to the wall.

“What are you doing out here so late? Surely you should be sleeping if you have to be up at dawn.” Castiel frowned with confusion when Dean actually laughed.

“I’m sure I should.” He answered with a smile. Expression quickly fading when he realized Castiel might have thought he was defying him. His response had been close to insolence. “I had a fallin’ out with one of the other men.” Dean explained, smile disappearing altogether. “Just cooling off.”

“Oh.” Castiel drew in a shallow breath. He seemed genuinely surprised. “Does that happen often?” Dean nodded, pressing his lips together.

“I guess. Well, it does to me.” He tried another cautious smile. “You just gotta make sure you stand up for yourself. Get left alone then.”

Castiel tilted his head to one side. It seemed a rather unlikely thing to say under the circumstances. He couldn’t seem to rid himself of the inexplicable feeling of regret that troubled him since he bent Dean over that morning. It never bothered him before, and he flushed slightly at the memory of it. Castiel wished he could take it back and start again. He just couldn’t help but point out the obvious.

“But you never stand up to the masters?”

“Yeah, well.” Dean sighed. Castiel thought he saw a dark shadow cross his face. “You don’t get lashed or tortured if you pick a fight with one of them.” He added, jerking his head back in the direction of the sleeping quarters. Castiel was watching him closely. He seemed so articulate for someone who was clearly uneducated and had more life experience than anyone his age should have. Dean looked back up at the stars. The bright shine in his eyes returned, highlighting the dusting of sandy freckles covering his nose.

“You’re not like the others.”

Dean glanced up at Castiel. He wasn’t quite sure what he meant. It might have been a compliment, and it might not, but either way it made his heart pound in his chest.

“It’s only you that seems to see it, sir.” Dean answered quietly. “To everyone else, I’m just another nameless face to be bought and sold. I can put up with it for as long as it takes for me to find a way to get out of this life.”

“I imagine all the men wonder what it would be like to be free.” Castiel replied hesitantly. He wasn’t quite sure what it was exactly that made his stomach flutter every time he got close to this Winchester boy. He suddenly wanted to touch him again.

“Most of the other slaves just accept it for what it is. They just got tired of fighting, I suppose. The pain stops when you give in to it.”

“So why do _you_ obey?”

“Honestly?” Castiel nodded with silent interest. “My little brother.” Dean admitted, a fond smile pulling at his mouth with his last memory of him. Wide hazel eyes and unruly hair framing his young face and filling Dean’s heart with pride. “I know he’s out there somewhere. If I can stay alive and strong, I know one day I’m gonna get out. I’m going to save him.”

“You really believe that?” Castiel asked in amazement. It was such a selfless dream.

“It keeps me going.”

Dean seemed to think that maybe he already said too much, and looked down at the ground. He kicked his bare feet in the dirt. Castiel studied Dean’s handsome face with new perspective. His bright eyes and strong jaw were bathed in a soft wash of moonlight. He really was exquisite.

“You have hope. That’s a rare thing, even for free men.”

Dean dared one last smile before his gaze slowly slid back up. He felt a hushed breath catch in his throat when their eyes met. Castiel suddenly heard Michael calling him. He glanced back over his shoulder to see the front door open. A golden glow flooded out into the night and exposed the dark line of his brother’s silhouette.

“I have to go. Goodnight, Winchester.”

“Goodnight, Master Castiel. It has been my honour to speak with you.”

Castiel paused, stunned by such a response. He wasn't used to being valued in his own right. He felt an unfamiliar surge of something warm inside him before turning to head back up the path. At the last moment Castiel stopped to take one lingering look at the young man who had captured his attention so completely. He tilted his face upwards.

“You’re right, they are beautiful.” Castiel said softly, walking up to the house without looking back. He sensed Dean was watching him intently until he disappeared from view.

Castiel left his window open that night and let the gentle summer breeze carry the scent of magnolia blossom into his room. He stared up at the open sky and watched the stars until he fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean finally let sleep start to take him and wandered slowly back inside. He spent a long time trying to get comfortable on a hard floor with nothing to rest his head on, and an elbow in his back. His body still ached, and he couldn’t seem to get Castiel out of his head. All he could see when he closed his eyes was the nothingness reflected there. Memory of heavy breaths behind him when his master had taken his body that morning. Dean wondered how many more of the boys Castiel violated to demonstrate his control and the absolute power he had over the other men. Dean was disgusted with himself that he even cared. Maybe he just wanted to believe his new master might have been very different if he hadn't been born to that position.

Castiel spent many lonely hours watching the stars, wondering how someone who had so little could take solace from something like that. He only slept until just after midnight when he awoke again with a start, soon finding himself drawn back to the verandah. His eyes scanned the grounds like he was subconsciously looking for something, or someone, to lift his dark mood but everything was still and quiet. Castiel glanced over towards the edge of the estate, pushing the thought aside that he was looking for Dean. There was a brightness in his smile when he talked about his brother and the hope he still had in his heart, despite all the horrible things life threw at him before he was even fully grown. Castiel hadn't possessed even a shred of hope since he was a boy when he once dreamed of a better life. One where he could be happy, free from the constraints of being forced to follow his brother’s orders. The constant struggle of having to pretend to be someone he wasn’t had chipped away at all he had left and made him lonely and jaded.

Castiel forced the image of Dean’s perfect face from his mind. He had to forget about him. He was nothing. A slave whose freedom was subject to the authority of his master. Lucifer chanted those words like a litany every time he had to remind Castiel to embrace his position in society and take what belonged to him by right.

In the morning, Castiel decided he wanted to see Dean again. Just to make sure he felt nothing but contempt for his new charge. He knew Dean would have to obey so Castiel used his authority to send for him. Knowing no better than to demand the boy's presence simply because he commanded it. The thought never occurred to him Winchester might want to come up to the house willingly on request. It wasn’t really Castiel’s fault. He was never shown that people could be surprisingly compliant if they were asked, rather than directed. He had given the order for Dean to be sent up to his rooms to help him dress. Michael demanded a meeting about the recent transfer of his slaves. Castiel would be expected to impress him with news of his management of the men who were turned over to him the day before. Dean had no idea why Master Castiel would want to see him in private, unless he wanted to use him again. The thought he might have seen something else there in Castiel’s eyes just wouldn’t go away. Dean hoped he hadn’t been wrong about what might be hidden behind the extravagant clothes and cold glare of indifference.

Castiel knew he would soon be asked to choose a personal slave to work on his area of the land, and help him tend to his duties. Not sure he would be able to keep an appropriate distance away from Dean, and that could be dangerous for both of them. Lucifer would never accept anything between them that wasn’t based on the need for sexual release. Expressing a genuine desire to be loved by another man would never be allowed. His brother already suspected Castiel had no intention of taking a wife.

Dean was brought up to the house and told to wait outside the master’s quarters in silence. After several long minutes, the wooden doors opened and Castiel beckoned him into his rooms. He didn’t say a single word in greeting, and Dean knew he wasn’t supposed to speak until instructed. The silence was heavy on him, suddenly remembering Castiel hadn't reprimanded him the night before when he was staring up at the stars.

“You called for me, sir.” Dean said at last. Castiel spared him a brief glance before moving back inside. Dean understood enough to know he was expected to follow him. He stood awkwardly in the centre of the room, shuffling nervously from one foot to the other while he waited. He was still exhausted and sore, and in no mood to be forced to repeat the experience he endured on his arrival. Dean had been dragged away from a violent brawl that broke out in the camp before some of the drivers put an end to it with a few well-placed hits and several cruel licks of the whip. The one who delivered the men from Michael didn't think it was a coincidence the Winchester boy was right in the middle of it.

Castiel really wanted to tell Dean the truth about why he summoned him that morning but knew he mustn’t. Forcing himself to be the ruthless master Dean anticipated. Castiel did the only thing he could. He lied.

“Yes, I was bored.” Castiel sighed dramatically. “I thought you might be able to  _distract_ me.”

Castiel chose the word carefully. It hadn't escaped his attention most of the other slaves and house servants never spoke unless directed, but Dean seemed to have a certain something that amused him. He was quick-witted and articulate, and Castiel found he had a desire to engage the boy in conversation. Dean felt his shoulders drop when he misread it, biting back a sigh at the thought of having to bend over again.

“Yes, sir. Whatever you ask of me.” Dean answered, without hesitation. He knew his place. Castiel seemed to be making a quiet decision in his head.

“I think I would like you to kiss me.”

Dean paused. It was totally unexpected, but he managed to conceal the sense of relief. His expression never faltered. Two years of submitting to men like Castiel granted him the ability to hide his emotions well.

“Yes, sir.”

Castiel edged a little closer, almost reaching out to feel Dean’s rough jaw beneath his fingertips. He managed to stop himself before they touched the skin.

“Then I want you to take me in your mouth.”

Dean swallowed hard, wondering what that meant. He could guess well enough, and closed his eyes. Maybe he was wrong about Castiel, after all. Stupid to believe he might be different.

“Yes, sir.” Dean forced out the words once more, holding his hands behind his back in the subservient gesture he knew his new master expected. Dean should have known he was only called upstairs to satisfy some carnal desire. He couldn’t deny he was disappointed.

“Touch me.” Castiel directed. Dean knew to obey without question, lifting one trembling finger to run it slowly along the plump line of Castiel’s bottom lip. Dean had been asked to do many things, but never something so intimate. Trying hard not to show how long his body had ached to touch someone like that. “No, with your mouth.” Castiel closed his eyes. Dean knew he was waiting for him to press a kiss against those parted lips. He leaned in and pushed their mouths lightly together, heart beating fast. It was passionless and brief but Castiel found himself wanting more and encouraged Dean to kiss him again. Castiel moaned when he opened his mouth a little wider, teasing Dean’s lips open with searching strokes. He pushed in hard until he could feel the tip of Dean’s tongue slide against his own. Castiel held Dean fixed against him. Even when he let his hand fall, Dean didn’t pull away. They explored the inside of each other’s mouths without the need for Castiel to demand it. Dean wanted it to last a little longer. Human touch like that was something he never had. Ashamed to admit how much he liked it.

Dean reached down, instinctively fumbling for the button that fastened Castiel’s breeches. His hand slipped in his haste to undo them. Dean prepared to drop to his knees in front of his master, but Castiel suddenly stopped him, wrapping his fingers around one of Dean’s wrists to hold him in position. Castiel dared to run the other hand down the skin that was just visible underneath one of the tears in Dean’s shirt. Castiel kissed him one last time, opening his mouth to whisper his name into the space around his tongue. Dean pulled away to lick a wet line down the curve of his master’s throat that left him almost speechless.

“Dean.” Castiel exhaled with pleasure when he felt Dean’s tongue slide against his skin. The boy gradually made his way back up to Castiel’s mouth, pushing it inside again.

“Castiel.” Dean forgot himself when he breathed his master’s name in return. The moment was powerfully intimate. Dean gave in to the new sensation, but Castiel suddenly remembered what Lucifer had told him. Forcing himself to show how appalled he was by such familiarity. Castiel jerked back, curling his fingers round Dean’s throat for his insubordination. Another distasteful product of the way he watched his brothers discipline their own slaves when they overstepped the mark. Castiel stared Dean down, but his grip was weak. He had no real desire to hurt the boy, but he had to make sure his charge knew how wrong it was to make such presumptions. Dean belonged to Castiel completely, body and soul. Bonded by right.

Dean bowed his head and dropped forward onto his hands. He had no doubt Castiel would want to show him again how easily he could bend him to his will, and reached down between his legs. He started to unthread the length of cord that served as a belt, but Castiel couldn’t do it and walked away without another word. He took in a few deep breaths to fight off the heat that flooded through him when Dean kissed him. His thoughts scattered in many different directions, all disjointed and confusing. Castiel felt torn between the need to punish Dean, and the unexpected desire he had for this boy that made him want to cover every part of him with his mouth.

“Do you not know your place, Winchester?” Castiel asked quickly. It seemed like a hollow echo of a distant past. Dean could tell it didn’t come from his heart. He nodded weakly, staring at the floor between his hands while Castiel continued. “You are my bondservant, and you will be subservient to me.” He added coldly. “Do you understand? You are entirely at the disposal of your master, Winchester. You will do as I ask until you are released from my service.” Dean eventually looked back up, and nodded again. Castiel exhaled a deep breath, face softening when he saw the way Dean was staring up at him. “I need to change before I go to see my brother. He is always very particular about my appearance.” Castiel fidgeted absently with some of the clothes already laid out on top of his bed, deliberately pretending he hadn’t been aroused at all by the warmth of Dean’s body against his own. He knew the boy was watching the movement of his hands. Castiel had shown a moment of weakness to someone under his command and he couldn’t risk it happening again, no matter how pretty that boy was or how much Castiel wanted to touch him. “Draw me a bath.” Castiel demanded, voice now steady again.

Dean moved quickly through to the bathroom in stunned silence. He wasn’t sure what just happened, or why Castiel was so reluctant to fulfill the need that was so glaringly obvious by the firm line of an erection Dean tried very hard not to notice. Dean started to fill the tub full of water, aimlessly running his fingers across the surface with quiet fascination. He still looked tired. The sores on his hands had not been treated properly, and were starting to sting where they touched the water. Castiel was watching him from the doorway with no understanding of the strange sensations this boy seemed to elicit in him. He couldn’t seem to look away, studying the gentle movements of Dean's arm while he let the water slide through his fingers. The muscles in his back were tight under the thin cotton. Castiel thought he saw the boy flinch when he ordered him to remove the ragged shirt so he could examine him more closely. He suspected Dean was hiding something, but he did as he was asked. As soon as the material fell free, Castiel could see the distinctive marks of fresh welts on his back.

“What happened to you?” Castiel murmured softly. Dean didn’t even turn around. He just shrugged and continued to gaze into the water. Castiel approached him from behind, staring at the red lines that started to develop on his skin. Dean seemed completely transfixed by the flow of water while he poured it into the metal tub. His eyes followed the gentle swirls when he moved his hand just under the surface. Castiel was watching the boy intently. It slowly dawned on him that this must be a new experience for Dean. “Haven’t you ever taken a bath before?” Castiel laughed. Dean turned to look at him over the curve of one shoulder. Expression soon fading when he realized Dean seemed to be embarrassed by the question. He quickly looked down again and stared at the slats beneath his feet.

“No, sir. Not a hot one, at any rate.” Dean admitted quietly. “Me and my kid brother used to go jump in the river when we needed to cool off or wash our clothes.”

Castiel frowned when he realized Dean was telling the truth. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live such a simple life, but Dean never seemed bitter about his past. Castiel thought that said a lot about him. He couldn’t help but admire how his young charge always seemed to take whatever came his way and make the best of it.

“Strip off, get in.” Castiel said impulsively, his own bath forgotten. For some reason, he just wanted Dean to feel the warm water ease his tired body and clean his dirty wounds. Dean shook his head. He wondered if it could have been a test of his obedience, but he wouldn’t be quite so easily taken in by the promise of something he couldn’t really have. Castiel sensed his reluctance so he sat down on the edge of the tub and dipped the ends of his fingers in to show Dean he had nothing to be afraid of. “It’s fine, get in.” Castiel said again. His voice had lost that hard edge that sometimes made Dean’s stomach turn. He peered down into the water like he expected something to suddenly jump out and bite him.

Dean undressed and hesitantly started to climb into the tub, pulling back quickly when his toe touched the warm surface. It wasn’t unpleasant, just… different. Castiel watched with mild amusement as he encouraged Dean to try again, steadying him by the arm when he stepped into the water. Castiel picked up a cloth and started to bathe the skin of his back and soothe the cuts. He could see Dean had set his jaw in a tight line to hide the pain. He was trying his best to be brave.

“I asked you what happened. How did you come by such terrible wounds?”

“I don’t think you would want me to tell you, sir.” Dean answered carefully, nervously biting into his lip.

“Yes, I would.” Castiel answered petulantly. Dean still didn’t say anything, and Castiel wondered what he was trying to keep from him. For some reason that irritated him. “I order you to tell me.” Castiel said suddenly. He hadn’t used his position to show his hold over Dean since he called him to his rooms that morning and the harsh tone of his own voice surprised him. Dean inhaled a deep breath and stared into the water. He couldn’t lie.

“Someone said you were a spoiled, prissy bitch that likes to fuck the house boys because you can’t get a girl of your own.”

Castiel paled. Dean heard him draw in a laboured breath. He thought he might have gone too far but when his master spoke again, he didn’t seem angry at all.

“What happened?” Castiel managed at last. Dean laughed low in his throat at the memory.

“I punched him.”

“You did?”

“I did.” Dean replied. “These lashes are my payment for stepping out of line.” Castiel sighed profoundly and hung his head. He couldn’t explain how much it pleased him Dean had defended his reputation with the other men, but genuinely felt terrible the poor boy had been so badly hurt in his honour.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Dean. Your back is a mess.”

Dean just shrugged his shoulders. Castiel gently lifted his hand away and mindlessly rinsed out the cloth. The water clouded red. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

“You’re my master Mr. Novak, sir. It’s my duty to fight for you.” Castiel’s hand stopped moving while he studied the deep lacerations. They were still raw and weeping, but the hot water had soothed away most of the dirt and dried blood.

“I see.” Castiel whispered, hesitating just a little too long before he asked Dean if there was more to that than mere loyalty. “Is that the only reason you chose to stand for me?” Castiel looked down. He searched Dean’s face when he slowly lifted his chin up, green eyes wide and uncertain. Dean answered with a simple shake of his head, and Castiel seemed satisfied with the response. He resumed the calming strokes and continued to trickle water over the open wounds. “Actually, I was betrothed once.” Castiel admitted quietly. He looked pained at the memory. Dean didn’t ask him for any more than that, but he seemed to want to talk about it. “My brother Lucifer arranged it.” His master continued. “She was the daughter of another land owner down to the south, but I could never have loved her and it wouldn't have been fair to marry her.”

“Why not?”

“Is it not obvious?” Castiel asked, smiling uncertainly. Dean thought it probably best not to reply. “I have no interest in women, Dean.”

“Right.” There wasn’t really any need for him to offer a response, but Dean felt like he had to say something and that was the best he could come up with while his mind was distracted by all the possible implications of that admission. 

“Lucifer never forgave me for that. He claims I made him look weak, unprincipled.”

“I would think that would rather make you a man of great principles, of honour. Not to marry someone you could never love.”

Castiel huffed a small laugh, but he gained no amusement from it. Dean apparently understood him better than the brother who helped raise him. Castiel spent most of his life in Michael’s shadow. He quickly changed the subject.

“Here.” Castiel murmured softly, kneeling down next to the tub. “Let me help you.” He reached forward, but the soap slipped through his trembling fingers and slid into the bath with a soft splash.

“It’s fine, sir. I can do that myself.” Dean answered quickly, hurriedly searching for it in the bottom of the water before Castiel put his hand in and reached between Dean's open knees. Dean felt a surge of panic when he realized Castiel might notice how aroused he had become by the tender way he cleansed his back. Castiel batted him away before dipping his hand into the water to try and locate the small cake of soap. He couldn’t find it, so he slowly pulled his arm out. Hand accidentally brushing against Dean’s budding erection.

“Oh - you’re hard.” Castiel gasped, shaking off the suds. He was so surprised, he hadn’t been able to stop the words from tumbling out.

“I’m sorry.” Dean fumbled to apologize, face burning with shame. “I’m so sorry, sir.” Both cheeks were tinged with a slow spread of colour when he reached blindly for the bar of lye soap that had dropped in the space between his legs. “Your hands felt nice. I’m not used to being taken care of like that. I been fucked plenty, but never really… touched.” He murmured. His eyes met Castiel’s, and they stared at each other until Dean remembered his place and shamefully turned his face away. “Forgive me, Master Castiel.” Dean stammered around the tightness distorting his voice. Respectfully averting his eyes when he knew he had spoken out of turn. “I know I’m supposed to look away.” Dean’s gaze was soon drawn back, looking up at Castiel while everything he wanted to say since the night before came spilling out his mouth before he could stop it. “But your eyes are so fucking beautiful. Sometimes when I done a day in the fields, I just look up at all that summer sky. A man could get lost in that.”

Dean stopped, and stuttered a breath. Glancing away again when he realized how desperate he sounded. He already shared too much of himself, and some of his own mask had slipped away to reveal a sensitive and vulnerable boy who needed someone to care for him. Not to use him to relieve some base sexual need. Castiel was watching him in silence. He spent a few moments wondering if Dean really meant he could get lost in the blue of his eyes.

Castiel had been so distracted, he was already late for his meeting and made no attempt to dress. Castiel was still leaning over Dean and running delicate streams of water over the damaged skin when he heard Michael calling for him.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel drew in a shallow breath and scrambled to his feet, face suddenly haunted by a dread Dean had never seen on him before. He might have been the property of another man himself, but it was clear in that one little gasp of alarm his master also had someone to answer to. Castiel had all but forgotten Michael wanted to see him, unsettled by letting Dean distract him for so long. Michael was almost at the entrance, and there was no time to get the boy out of his quarters without him being discovered. Dean knew by the look of dismay in those blue eyes he should never have agreed to let Castiel bathe him. Now he was in danger of more punishment for letting that one seductive touch persuade him to do something so reckless.

Dean heard the sound of doors being pushed open. Castiel whispered a hushed command to stay still and quiet. Dean just nodded, pulling both knees up to his chest while he waited in the water. Hardly daring to move at all while he held his breath. Castiel hurriedly closed the bathroom door just as Michael appeared, demanding to know why his brother missed the meeting. Dean could hear Castiel stammer out a vague response while he just sat there. Shivering with cold and hoping Castiel would manage to persuade his brother to leave.

Michael’s eyes were full of suspicion when he noticed Castiel’s undershirt hanging untidily over his body. There were a few damp patches on the front from bending over the tub. His steely gaze rested on the space below the door where a thin trail of fading steam was curling up from underneath. Castiel tried to move in front of him. He could see his brother’s eyes narrow when a doubtful thought slowly developed.

“Stand aside.”

“Michael, please.” Castiel tried. “Just let me get dressed.”

Castiel's reluctance to let Michael search the rooms just served to fuel his mistrust. He took a step forward and eased Castiel to one side, trying to make his way into the bathroom. Castiel made another determined effort to stand in his way. Michael gave him an angry glare before pushing it open with one hand. He stood fixed in the doorway in horror. Suddenly understanding why Castiel was so reluctant to let him pass. Michael pointed a shaky hand to where Dean was still cowering in the water. He looked terrified.

“What in the name of all creation is that… that _slave_ doing in here?” Michael yelled at Castiel in disbelief and shoved his brother roughly out of the way. He didn’t wait for an answer, storming past to physically drag Dean out of the tub naked. He dropped him harshly to the floor. It was cold and unyielding and Dean felt a shudder rush up through his body at the impact. The signs of his arousal were still obvious when he tried to stand. Everything that implied just seemed to enrage Michael all the more. Castiel instinctively reached down to help Dean up but his brother grabbed his arm and pulled him back with more force than he really needed to separate them. Dean’s eyes grew wide with fear when he watched Castiel slide across the floor.

Michael hauled Dean up, forcing him down the stairs with Castiel running behind them. Begging for Michael to let his boy go. Dean didn’t even try to fight him. He had no right to expect anything but retribution and pain for daring to share something so intimate with a master he hardly knew. Michael ignored Castiel’s broken pleas for mercy and pulled Dean down the hallway. Holding him fast while he opened the front door and kicked him out the house. The rough stones of the path dug mercilessly into the soles of his feet as he tried to stumble away, but he slipped on the uneven pebbles and fell forward onto his knees. The many slaves busy tending to the gardens mostly looked away or stared at the ground in silence, pretending not to have noticed that one of their own was crouching naked on the step with the water still dripping from his hair. Dean’s eyes darted helplessly to each one in turn as he tried to cover himself with his hands, but it was hopeless. He was desperate to hide the blush of shame that was now spreading ruthlessly up his neck and across his cheeks. Michael stared down at him in disgust and instinctively raised one hand to strike him, but he heard Castiel calling down from the balcony and pleading with his brother to just let him go.

Michael had been angry before, but Castiel’s interference with his methods of discipline seemed to fire him up to a new level of rage. He turned on his heel and started to head back up the stairs to pull Castiel away from the window. Castiel called out to Dean. He looked up to see a white linen shirt flutter down from above. Dean quickly ran to pick it up, eyes fixed on Castiel until he disappeared from view. Dean yanked it on and ran down the path as fast as he could, the sounds of Michael’s stern reprimand drifting down from overhead. Dean could hear his voice fading in his ears by the time he reached the stone border of the slave quarters and all but threw himself inside. He curled up in one corner of the room, chest heaving with the effort. He couldn’t be sure whether his heavy breaths were from fear or from having to run so fast.

Dean couldn’t bring himself to turn around, even though he knew some of the other men were watching him with interest. He had been nothing but trouble since the moment he arrived, and now he had caused even more of a disturbance that would likely draw Michael’s attention to them in a way they didn’t want. One of the men who had been there for many years started to shuffle over to him, encouraged by a few of the others who were hanging back. The punch Dean had thrown earlier in Castiel’s defense was still fresh in their minds, and they had no desire to be on the receiving end of his violence. The man bent down in front of Dean and poked him hard in the chest with one finger. He seemed to be a little too keen to tell Dean he wasn’t special, and not to bother taking any comfort in the fact he was just one of many in a long line of boys Castiel used to amuse himself. Help to fill the empty hours.

“Don’t think you’re gonna get any better treatment down here just ‘cause you get to be his latest little cock sucker.” Dean turned his face away and closed his eyes when a fresh wave of nausea made him want to retch. “He’ll get bored with you, just like all the rest.” Dean felt something repulsive flood through his body with the idea Castiel would give himself so freely to anyone when he didn’t have to. Dean couldn’t remember a time when he was able to make a decision like that for himself. Castiel had already shown Dean exactly what was expected of him, but he still wanted to believe he wasn’t really like that. Despite that harsh introduction to his care, he was the first man who had ever shown him any real kindness. There was a gentleness to his touch that made Dean feel safe and warm. More convinced than ever there was a soft unhappiness in his eyes, like he wanted someone to chase it away with the promise of something more. The same rough voice drew his attention away. “A pretty face won’t get you very far here, Winchester.” The man continued. “Those boys in the big house don’t care about you any more than they care about me. If you want some advice, I would watch your back.” Dean didn’t want to hear anymore. He was already tired of falling out with the other men. Constantly jeered at and abandoned, suddenly consumed by an inexplicable desire to ask Castiel if everything he said was true.

Castiel’s fascination with his new slave just gave Michael one more reason to target Dean. Lucifer rarely graced the rest of the plantation with his presence but he trusted Michael even less than he did Castiel, and had never really believed him to be particularly capable. Lucifer had trained them both to be cold shadows of the great men they could have been. Always just following his orders. Michael had a hint of something dark in him Lucifer didn’t like, but he knew somewhere deep inside Castiel there was a good heart. His little brother had never been happy with the way they attempted to run their father’s estate in his absence.

The war had made people so discontent they started to want more from life. News of Michael’s recent transgressions had reached Lucifer. Soon discovering his brother had picked out some of the boys who were transferred to Castiel because he wanted them removed from his care. He believed this Winchester boy had become more outspoken about the level of mistreatment. He seemed to have enough intelligence to make some of the less compliant slaves want freedom of their own. The unrest had encouraged people to fight for simple rights for those in positions of servitude. Many people were beginning to speak out about the immorality of slavery. Michael had been so wrong to think Dean must have been the one responsible for the trouble there. He was completely innocent and had done nothing to deserve being treated so badly. Castiel felt terrible. A new emotion for him. He was the one who told the boy to get into the water. Even that was nothing compared to the guilt he felt at liking how easily Dean had been stimulated by his touch.

Dean clutched mindlessly at the shirt that got thrown from the verandah where it covered his body. It was beautifully soft and still smelled of Castiel. He cast it down as soon as he ran back up to his room to watch the tragic scene unfold beneath his window. The least he could do was to help Dean protect his modesty when he returned to the camp. When he finally reached the slave quarters, it hadn't gone unnoticed the new boy was wearing something that belonged to one of the masters. He was also freshly washed and reeked of soap. Dean was still trying to understand why he would possibly want more of Castiel’s touch when he knew deep down he could never mean anything to someone like that. There was a gentleness in the tender way Castiel tried to take some of his pain away. Making him feel like he was worth something for the first time. The sting of his wounds was nothing now compared to the emptiness he felt in his hands without someone to hold.

Castiel spoke so openly about his homosexuality, Dean wondered if it was just a product of the way he was educated to only take the boys who worked the estate. He shook off his doubt. If that was true, then surely when he had the opportunity to marry he might not have turned it down so readily. The waiting was the worst thing. Every little noise or disturbance outside made his stomach turn. There was little in the way of anything else to occupy his thoughts. Dean couldn’t stop himself from thinking about what Castiel said, or even why he would have admitted to something like that. Society would never have encouraged him to voice his preference for men. 

Dean felt an unexpected stab of sympathy. He might never have really known physical affection, but he couldn’t see why sex would matter if you were with someone who truly loved you. He heard himself sigh when his gaze kept drifting back to the house. He would be forbidden to see Castiel again, and that hurt much deeper than he imagined it would. The only thing Dean ever understood about love was the way he felt about his brother. That unconditional loyalty and devotion to another person with no promise of anything for yourself. Dean wondered aimlessly if Castiel had ever been in love. He supposed not. He didn’t think he would have been quite so indifferent about all the damage he caused by using the boys for sex if he had anything but emptiness inside him. There was something unnaturally clinical about the shameful way he introduced himself to Dean on his arrival. It didn’t seem so very different from the relationship he had with his brothers. There was no love in Michael. Dean knew he would be forced to stay away from Castiel now. It was probably better that way. To stop it now before he started to feel anything more than he already did. A permanent ache in his chest longing to let his master hold him again. 

Michael understood completely why his brother wanted to help Dean, and he wouldn't allow it. Michael knew they were in a place where intolerance and judgement were all too real. He had to show Castiel how displeased he was about his blatant attraction to Dean.

“I forbid you to see that boy again.” Michael told him, without any hint of expression. Many years of isolation had left him devoid of any trace of empathy. Castiel couldn’t hide his own distress.

“Michael.” He managed to whisper, pleading with his brother to change his mind.

“No, Castiel. If you want to use a boy like that, then you must take one of the others to tend to you. I don’t care which one, but I will not let that Winchester boy distract you any longer. You can’t get close to these people. I know you care for him, don’t bother to deny it.” He didn’t deny it, and Michael knew by his silence the suspicions he had about the desire Castiel harboured for that one particular slave made Dean Winchester dangerous. “You will not jeopardize my authority here.” Michael stated. “Do you want an uprising on your hands? That’s what will happen if any of the men even suspect you are so weak.”

“Weak?” Castiel echoed bitterly. “If you think compassion is a weakness, then you are not the man I thought you were.”

“Castiel.” Michael said after a pause, and just for a moment his face softened. “It would never be accepted here. For all our sakes, leave it alone.” There was more said about his brother’s sexuality in those few words of warning than anything Michael ever acknowledged before. “Now, go back upstairs and do not bother to come down until you have cleansed your rooms of that filth.”

Castiel didn’t see Dean at all the next day, and spent a restless night hoping he was alright. Michael punished them both by purposely moving Winchester to stable duty. Making the decision in his head to find Castiel a wife as soon as possible. Dean chose to stay in the barn at night. He made a miserable bed of straw and tried to let sleep take away the strange feeling of loneliness that filled his heart since he got dragged away from Castiel. Staring up at the stars once more through a wide hole in the rafters while he struggled to get comfortable. All he had left to fill his mind with something that wasn’t cold and cruel. Most of the other men already called him out on his developing affection for Castiel. They laughed at him for even thinking he had any chance of a better life. Dean couldn’t understand how people could be so mean when they had no more to hold on to than he did. Dean never denied he had been with Castiel. Part of him wondered if it was just some twisted form of jealousy.

Castiel had become withdrawn and despondent since Dean was taken from him, and Michael suspected there was a lot more to his developing interest in Dean Winchester than sympathy for his public humiliation. Castiel wanted to see him again so badly it hurt, so he completely ignored Michael’s command and secretly made his way down to the stables early next morning. Dean had hardly slept at all, distracting himself by mucking out the pens since dawn. Castiel put on his finest shirt and jacket. Dean only needed one cursory look over his shoulder when he heard him approach, for all his unwanted emotions to rise up again and flood him with something unnaturally defensive. Everything he had been told about Castiel’s substantial experience with many of the boys there made him well up with resentment, and he didn’t really know why. His first thought was to mock him. The shameless extravagance of every line and cut of his clothes looked so out of place beside the puddle of animal waste he had to step over to reach him.

“Careful.” Dean said, turning his back on Castiel again. “You wouldn’t wanna get horse shit on your freshly polished boots, _sir_.” Dean bit hard at the inside of his cheek, pushing away the horrible feeling of want that pulled inside him whenever he made the mistake of looking into Castiel’s eyes. He couldn’t have him. Dean knew that now, cursing in his head for ever allowing himself to believe otherwise. Dean thrust the pitchfork back into the pile of hay and carried on with his duties. He could hear the gentle exhale of soft breaths behind him. He forced himself not to turn back round. “Are we done here?” Dean asked sharply. He should never have spoken to Castiel like that, scared for a second he might correct him. Dean prepared himself for the inevitable reprimand but nothing came, and he didn’t know how much longer he could bear to be so close to Castiel without reaching out to touch him. Castiel gasped Dean's name behind him, heart pounding wildly in his chest when he realized his master’s soft fingertips were suddenly tracing a seductive line down the middle of his back. Dean tensed, letting out all the air from his lungs while he gave in to the caress.

“Dean.” Castiel tried again. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I’m nobody.” Dean whispered quietly. “Why do you care?” Castiel moved one step closer to slide an arm around his chest. He eased Dean back until he could feel the heat of warm breath skim across the curve of his neck.

“I don’t know.” Castiel said, stroking Dean's stomach. “I just do.”

Dean felt his own body go weak, letting Castiel drag eager hands over every part of weathered skin he could reach. Dean heard himself gasp out a needy moan when he leaned into the touch. He ached for something more, something that would make him feel wanted. Castiel gently turned him around until they were facing each other before slipping off his gloves and lifting one hand to touch Dean’s face. He leaned in hesitantly, almost waiting for Dean to touch their lips together. Castiel suddenly pushed himself forward and they kissed again. This time it was full of passion and desire, so different from the last kiss they shared. Dean willingly responded to the stroke of Castiel's tongue inside his mouth while he was forced down onto his back.

Dean was pinned fast under Castiel while he lay on top of him, pressing hard against his body. Desperate to feel some relief. Dean lifted up his hips and wrapped both legs around his master’s back, wondering how they had gone so effortlessly from the rigid formality of forced conversation to making out in the hay. Castiel’s dick was already aching but he was fighting the desire to fuck Dean again while he was pushing his body up against the stiffness digging into his stomach. Breathing hard with anticipation when he hurried to reach down and unfasten his pants. Dean turned over and hitched his body up so Castiel could take him from behind like before, but Castiel searched for his hands and held them steady.

“No, Dean. You don’t have to do that.”

Dean blinked slowly and stared at Castiel over his shoulder.

“I don’t understand. I thought this was what you wanted.”

Castiel sighed, pulling Dean up until he was sitting between his knees.

“Dean, you can't imagine how much I want you but… I don’t want to endanger your position here.” Dean was already longing for Castiel’s touch again but the response suddenly made him feel very insecure.

“ _My_ position?” Dean asked defensively. “Or yours?” Castiel couldn’t lie to him. 

“Both.” He answered, as truthfully as he could. Honesty wasn’t something he was used to sharing with anyone. There was something so vague about his reply Dean actually wondered if it was just his way of pacifying him. Keep him dangling on a thread with an empty promise. Dean sat upright with a start and finally let out all his emotions in a stream of air. He was scared Michael would send him away, and he couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing Castiel again.

“Because I’m not worth it?”

“No.” Castiel replied quickly, searching Dean's face with an intensity that made his whole body tremble. “Because I think you might be worth all of it.” Dean could only look up at him in stunned silence. There was more life in Castiel’s eyes now than he ever saw there before. Castiel knew what he wanted. It was right there in front of him, but he would have to forsake everything he had ever known if they were discovered. Michael would never allow Dean back in the house unless he had to, so Castiel decided to search out Lucifer and beg him to let Dean become his personal bondservant. He would sleep with Castiel in his rooms and help him with his duties. It was his last hope.

Michael would be furious, but Lucifer’s word on the plantation was law and no one would ever dare to question him. Castiel saw something bright in Dean he wanted more than he ever wanted anything before. Dean gave him hope again and that was worth giving up all he ever possessed. He finally managed to persuade Lucifer to agree.

Dean would belong only to Castiel and there wasn't a damn thing Michael could do about it.


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel said goodnight to Lucifer after thanking him many times for giving Dean a chance to prove his true value. He walked back along the trail leading up to his share of the estate. By the time he reached the edge of the vineyard, it was almost dark. His first and only thought was to search out Dean and tell him he would be allowed to move into his quarters in the morning. There was a boyish flutter of excitement inside his chest at the thought of being able to spend more time with Dean without the constant threat of humiliation and pain. Castiel already hated the idea someone so humble and dignified had been forced to do something so disgusting as cleaning out the animal boxes. Rest his head on a pile of dirty straw. Dean deserved much better, and Castiel intended to treat him with the respect he should have given him at their first meeting. He still felt sick when he thought about the way he bent Dean over in the dusty grain store and taken the only thing of value he owned before he even knew his name. His conscience told him it was wrong, but he was so conditioned by a life of power and mastery, he didn’t know any better. Now he longed to make it right. Castiel could never take that moment back, but he could try and show the boy he could learn to trust him. He wanted to help Dean be strong again.

Castiel hadn't forgotten the love he saw there when Dean spoke about his brother. How the hope of seeing him one more time made his eyes shine in the moonlight under the stars. The once cold heart melted a little more every time he felt Dean’s warm skin beneath his fingertips or the soft press of his mouth against his own. Castiel knew Dean would still be working late in the stables. Suspecting he was reluctant to go back to the slave quarters with the others. He couldn’t imagine anyone would want to spend a night in such dreadful conditions without good reason.

Castiel couldn’t help his mouth from spreading into a soft smile when he approached the entrance to the barn. He saw the outline of Dean’s silhouette in the amber warmth of the oil lamp he had hung on a wooden peg dropping down from one end of the gable. Dean was petting one of the horses with tender strokes and leaning his face against its silky cheek. The way the fading light hit the curves of his body gave him an almost divine quality that seemed to draw Castiel to him like a beacon in the dark. There was a hidden strength there resting just underneath that perfect surface, and Castiel imagined he might have been very different if he had been born to a wealthy family. Castiel could have watched him for hours. No longer having any desire to even glance at any of the other boys on the estate.

Dean was the one who would make him remember who he was again. The one who made Castiel feel something long since forgotten. Dean turned sharply when he heard the crunch of a master’s boots on the gravel outside. His green eyes shone in the dark when he realized it was Castiel.

Castiel stepped through the stable doors, heart surging in his chest with an unexpected rush of emotion when he was close enough to touch the boy. He leaned forward and took Dean’s face in his hands, just so he could look at him. Dean blinked in surprise, but he didn’t pull away and Castiel swept the edge of one thumb over his cheek with another warm smile that made his mouth turn up at one corner. He didn’t say a word, so Dean’s insecurity soon kicked in again with a flurry of panic.

“Have I done something wrong?”

Castiel seemed to be pulled from his trance. He laughed softly.

“No, Dean. I wouldn’t say that.” Castiel replied. “I just wanted to look at you. Is that so hard to understand?”

Dean nodded.

“If you don’t mind me speakin’ my mind, sir.”

“No, Dean. I don’t mind.”

“Well, yeah. I ain’t used to being studied like that. I don’t really think there’s much to look at.”

“I disagree.” Castiel shook his head. How anyone so breathtaking couldn’t see it at all was a complete mystery to him. “You’re handsome, gentle… and your eyes.” Castiel suddenly hesitated. “You once told me you could get lost in something like that.” Dean remembered perfectly, worried he had shared too much with Castiel already. “I _am_ lost, Dean. I have been since the moment I first looked in them.” There was nothing Dean could have said in response to the happiness that flowed through him with those few simple words. Castiel leaned in to kiss him, a slow and gentle press of affection that made him want so much more, but he wouldn’t allow himself to give in to that desire until he was sure Dean wanted it too. Dean’s eyes were closed when Castiel pulled away, mouth slightly open. He seemed to be cherishing the touch against his lips. “I came to tell you my brother agreed to let you lodge in my rooms.” Castiel smiled. “You will be my personal bondservant, Dean.” He hesitated again, before adding quietly “If you want to.”

Dean had never wanted anything more in his life at that moment but he was slow to trust and a lifetime of self-preservation had made him highly suspicious.

“I don’t think Master Michael would be very happy about that.” He said doubtfully.

“I know, but I don’t care anymore. We will just have to be careful, and stay out of his way.” 

Dean squinted at him. It sounded almost too good to be true.

“Why would you ask me if it’s something I want? You shouldn’t do that, sir. I don’t have the right to ask for anything.”

“I like you, Dean. So much I can’t even tell you, and what I did was wrong. I won’t do that again unless _you_ want it.” Castiel added.

“But that’s forbidden.” Dean whispered in disbelief.

“I don’t care.” Castiel said breathlessly. Everything he had been told about how he was supposed to behave in a civilized society meant absolutely nothing when he looked in Dean’s eyes.

“Sir.” Dean started carefully. “I can’t let you put yourself in such a dangerous position, not for me.” Castiel knew it would be much safer if there was nothing romantic or sexual between them, but he also understood how hard it would be to keep his hands off him if they were alone together. Dean didn’t really know what was expected of him anymore. Castiel now seemed so different from the cruel and soulless shell of a man he had met on that first morning. “But I will do whatever you ask of me. I am at your service, Master Castiel. I haven’t forgotten that, or your kindness.”

“Dean.” Castiel looked away. “I _am_ sorry for what I did. I have never regretted anything more.”

“It’s alright, sir. Like I said, you’re not the first.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” Castiel said passionately. The pain in his eyes at the thought of another man taking out their frustrations on Dean like that just served to strengthen the hope his master might really mean it. Castiel desperately wanted to take him away from the stables, clean him up and give him a hot meal so badly it forced him to make an impetuous decision. “Come up to the house with me now. Lucifer already agreed to it, we can sneak in through the servant’s entrance.”

Castiel sensed Dean’s reluctance to anger Michael even more, so he did something he had never done before. He reached out and took Dean’s hand in his. Holding it tightly while he pulled him all the way back to the house in stunned silence.

 

Castiel ordered some supper to be brought up to his quarters. He gently washed the dirt from Dean’s hands and gave him another clean shirt while a bed was set up for him in the corner of the adjoining closet. Dean had never seen so much food in his life, and he picked up a chunk of meat with his bare hands and set about devouring it as soon as they were alone again. He was making positively sinful noises with every eager mouthful, and Castiel was completely entranced as he watched Dean cram it into his mouth. Hardly chewing at all before it slipped down his throat. Castiel leaned forward, dabbing at Dean’s face with his handkerchief to remove some of the warm juice that spilled down his chin. Dean suspected his manners probably left a lot to be desired and rubbed the back of his hand roughly across his mouth when he gulped down the last piece. His cheeks coloured up.

“Sorry.” He muttered, swallowing hard. His gaze dropped to the floor, painfully aware he had shown a little more enthusiasm than was polite. “Force of habit. You leave anything lyin’ around and some fucker’ll have it.” Castiel blinked in surprise. “Sorry.” Dean said again, suddenly realizing he would have to mind his mouth if he was to live in the house with Castiel.

“You don’t have to watch what you say around me, Dean.” Castiel told him with a small smile, reaching forward again to gently touch his hand. “It’s my brother you should be worried about. I don’t want you to pretend to be somebody else, it’s you I like. You have so much potential hidden underneath those rough hands and that dirty face.” He laughed. Dean flushed with modest pride, another spread of heat highlighting his cheekbones.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I don’t suppose you get many meals like that.” Castiel continued, eyeing the silver platter while Dean licked it clean. Feeling himself blush in return. Castiel hadn’t really meant to be quite so obvious about how much he liked Dean. Gave him a warm comfort he never felt before. There was something so sweetly endearing about the way Dean seemed to take in everything around him like he had suddenly been lifted from a dreary life and dumped in the middle of a royal palace.

“Don’t usually get anything warm.” He agreed, giving Castiel a grateful nod. “That was real nice, sir. Thank you.”

“What, no dessert?” Castiel teased, standing up to fetch the tray of fresh pastries one of the other servants left on the dresser. He didn’t think Dean’s eyes could get any wider, and Castiel wasn’t sure he could restrain himself for much longer if he continued to eat like that. The shameful image of Dean sucking the sugar from his fingertips with relentless flicks of that long wet tongue was impossible to ignore.

“Tell me more about your brother.” Castiel offered quickly, as a distraction while Dean finished off everything else that was put before him. He slowly explained what he remembered about how Sam got taken when he had been condemned and left to die. Dean couldn’t hide the guilt that still haunted him because he hadn’t been able to save Sam. He had no idea where he was or how to get him back.

“Maybe you could write to some of the other slave masters and ask for news of him.” Castiel suggested helpfully, but Dean just bit into his lip and twisted his fingers together in agitation. He stared at the floor.

“I can’t… I can’t read or write. I never learned.” He stammered. To anyone else that would have been so much easier to admit. Castiel sensed his shame, but he didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. Dean was put to work as a child, and that was just a luxury he never had. Castiel was now the one to feel ashamed at the senseless decadence of a lifestyle he had always taken for granted. A fateful chance could have meant their positions might have been reversed, and Castiel didn’t think he would have been strong like Dean if they had.

“I’ll teach you.” Castiel said decisively. Dean looked up at him with a hopeful expression.

“You would do that for me?”

“It would be my honour.”

“Thank you, sir.” Dean said quietly. He seemed to be thinking hard before he spoke again. “But I’ll have to give you something in return.” He added, suddenly jumping up and pulling Castiel to the window with an enthusiastic tug on the hem of his jacket. Castiel found himself stumbling out onto the balcony and standing next to Dean as they leaned over the pillared balustrade that lined the terrace. “I know.” Dean said with a smile. “You help me learn my letters and I’ll tell you about the stars.”

“I would like that very much.” Castiel laughed. When he turned back to his bondservant, he suddenly looked very serious. “Is there nothing else you want, Dean? I would give you anything you asked for if it was in my power to grant it.” Castiel said quietly. Not sure he wanted to hear the response. “Freedom?” Dean didn’t answer straight away. He took Castiel’s hand and guided his arm to follow the line of his finger where he pointed up at one of the larger constellations.

“See there, Mr Novak, sir?” He gestured. “That’s my favourite. I sometimes wonder how small I would look from up there. I know I don’t matter a whole lot but my brother is - was, everything to me.” He corrected, eyes staying fixed on the sky above their heads.

“Was?” Castiel interrupted. Dean nodded his assent while he stared out across the vineyard. “I don’t care about my own freedom, not anymore. I just wanna see Sam again.” He hesitated, drawing his gaze away when he turned back to Castiel. “And to stay with you.”

“Dean.” Castiel hardly dared to say his name when he fought the compulsion to smother him with a desperate embrace. Castiel had never known what it was like to want something so badly it made your chest ache with longing, but they were from separate worlds. Forbidden to love each other. Not just in Michael’s house, but in the cruel world outside. “If there was a way… if I could keep you, I would.”

Dean sighed and leaned against his master. They were now so close, Castiel could almost taste him on his lips. They were suddenly wrapped around each other, staggering away from the balcony and back towards Castiel’s bed. They dropped down in an untidy heap on top of the covers and lay there for a few minutes in comfortable silence. Dean had eaten so much it made him unusually sleepy and he was too much of a temptation just lying there on his bed, so Castiel encouraged him to go and rest so they could discuss his new duties in the morning. His own room was very modest but it was light and warm, and knowing Castiel was so close made it all the better. Dean was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

 

Michael quickly discovered Lucifer gave in to Castiel’s request. So angry he was undermined by his brother, it made him even more determined to make life difficult for them both. He marched up to Castiel’s rooms after supper, completely unaware Dean was already settled in the small recess behind the bed. Michael had every intention of taunting Castiel with the news he had chosen a wife for him. Taking great delight in informing Castiel he would be married before the end of the year. He might not be able to overrule Lucifer’s commands, but he had enough power over the estate to make Dean miserable in payment for what he'd done. Castiel was devastated. He didn’t have the heart to argue, wanting rid of Michael before he realized Dean had already taken up his position. He never said a word in response, silently vowing he would be dead before that happened. Castiel just wanted to be with Dean, away from all the hatred and bigotry. He finally understood it wasn't property and power that would give him the happiness he longed for all his life. It was Dean.

Castiel lay awake for almost two long hours. Michael’s threats cut into his heart like a shard of ice, not sure if Dean overheard them or not. Castiel was stretched out on his back. A fresh summer breeze coming in through the open window helped to cool his ardour a little, but he still wanted so much to feel Dean’s warmth against his skin that he couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he imagined the flawless lines of his face and the perfect curve of his lips. Castiel could hear his peaceful breaths while he rested in the other room. All he could think about was how those hot streams of air would feel against the skin of his stomach as Dean traced a line of reverent kisses down his body. Castiel tried hard to resist the urge to wake him, but his bed felt painfully cold and empty when the only sound in the darkness was the exhalations of Dean’s soft gasps as he slept.

  


Castiel cursed his own weakness, and slipped out of bed. He crept into the other room. Dean stirred when Castiel reached out to touch his face, eyes shooting open with a start when he realized he was no longer alone. Dean stretched and sat up with a yawn.  


“Sir?”  


“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Castiel began slowly. “I can’t sleep.”  


Dean blinked mindlessly at him in the dim light, uncertain of what he was supposed to say to that. The silence made him nervous, so he eventually shucked off the sheet and stood up. Castiel felt something stir in him when his gaze scanned Dean’s body. He wasn’t used to sleeping in a warm bed and removed everything apart from his breeches. “Here, sir. Let me see if I can help.” Dean whispered, leading Castiel back to bed. Dean covered him with devotion and positioned himself along the edge so he was lying next to him.  


Dean turned over onto his back, staring at the intricacies of the shadowed carvings that covered the ceiling while he ran calming strokes through Castiel’s hair. Murmuring a little tune he used to hum to his mother when the sickness kept her awake at night with fever. It had taken her so quickly. Dean felt his chest hitch with the precious memory of her. He suddenly felt Castiel’s hands fumbling for him in the dark and he leaned into him. Letting his master start to massage his body with a seductive caress. Dean was suddenly at the mercy of every need he kept locked away for years. Many emotions rushing in at the touch that almost took his breath away. Dean sighed and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about anything else in the world when he was next to Castiel. His master's trembling fingers were soon searching for his swollen dick. Castiel started to rub at it through the coarse linen with determined strokes.  


“I like you, Dean. You distract me.”  


Dean was already over-sensitive, suddenly feeling very defensive again.  


“Is that what I am to you? A plaything?” He spat out, before he could stop himself. Castiel seemed hurt by the question. His hand suddenly stopped moving. That wasn’t really what he meant. He pushed himself up onto his side and rested his head in the palm of one hand while he studied Dean closely through the darkness.  


“How many of my servants do you think I have taken into my bed?”  


Dean stared back at him, surprised at the grip of possessive jealousy now caught in his throat at the thought of anyone else taking up the same space in his master’s bed. He turned his face away. Dean had never known how much it could hurt until that moment.  


“You fucked plenty.” It sounded so much sulkier than he intended, and he heard Castiel draw in a tight breath before reluctantly pulling his hand away and turning over.  


“That’s not really the point.” Castiel whispered into the pillow. Dean almost thought he sounded ashamed. “You’re the only one who has shared my bed, Dean. The only one.” Castiel tried to hide the sadness in his voice that quickly surfaced with the idea Dean would ever doubt how much he had started to care for him.  


“I’m sorry, sir.” Dean said quietly, suddenly aware he may have forgotten his place again. “I have no right to question you.” Castiel sat up, reaching blindly for Dean’s hand where it was still resting on top of the sheet. 

“God, Dean. I only did that because that’s all I’ve ever known, and stop calling me sir.” He protested. “When we’re alone you may call me by my name, and just for your information - all the men take the boys they have a liking to. It doesn’t mean that’s who I really am.” Castiel sighed. “It never filled the part of me that always felt so empty.” Dean took in a few shallow breaths to push away unfamiliar emotions making his blood pump hard around his body. Castiel released the tight grip around his fingers and reached for Dean again. He gently pulled at the top of his breeches while Dean lay still, waiting for his master to tell him what he wanted him to do. He was breathing hard and Castiel hushed him when he carefully unlaced the string. The loose edge fell open and Castiel pushed his hand inside. “I’ve been trying to make you understand.” Castiel said quietly. Slipping his fingers through the space between the thin layer of cotton and the warm, responsive skin begging to be touched. “I don’t feel empty when I’m with you.” He tugged at Dean’s stiffening cock. Hastily dragging it free before pushing himself up and straddling Dean’s body with his thighs, pinning him back so he was helpless beneath him. Castiel started with light kisses along the line of his jaw, slowly moving his mouth downwards until he reached the top of Dean's pants.  


Dean instinctively spread his legs wide when Castiel resumed the trace of his tongue down Dean’s stomach. He stuttered in a breath when Castiel suddenly sucked his cock into his mouth while it hardened in his hand. He continued to pull on it, watching Dean tip his head back and put everything he had into fighting the urge to thrust his hips up into Castiel’s mouth and give in to the sensation completely.  


“Sir, please don’t.” Dean gasped fearfully. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep sucking my dick like that.” Castiel moaned around the fullness in his mouth. He didn’t know how Dean managed to make that sound so crude and so sensual at the same time. Castiel never wanted to give anyone else pleasure like that before, but he wanted to do it for Dean. Admire the look on his face when he reached the climax of something so intense for the first time. Castiel slid his arm slowly up the silk sheets and reached for Dean’s hand again, entwining their fingers tightly together to hold him fixed to the bed. “Stop, _please_.” Dean whispered, squirming on the sheets with one last desperate attempt to prevent Castiel from doing something he might later regret. “I mean it, Cas. Please… you’re gonna make me come." Castiel slowly flicked up his dark eyelashes to reveal an impish hint of blue that locked Dean’s gaze with his as the black pupils of his eyes spread out. He removed his mouth with a soft pop when he realized what Dean had called him. He thought he might have misheard at first until Dean whispered his name again in the darkness when he felt something start to tingle deep inside his belly. Castiel knew Dean was dangerously close to the edge and had no desire to correct him, so he deliberately opened his mouth even wider and slid it all the way down to the base. Dean was still protesting weakly, inhaling some tight breaths in a futile attempt to ignore the budding pleasure that had settled low in his stomach. “You shouldn’t do something like that for me, it’s not right.”  


Castiel ignored him, massaging the side of Dean’s shaft with a skillful tongue. He shivered when Castiel drew it all deep into his mouth with a few small shakes of his head. Dean stopped begging for him to stop as soon as he'd gone past the point of being able to fight it anymore. He came hard down Castiel’s throat while he continued to suckle at him until there was nothing left. Castiel wiped his mouth and moved back up the bed.  


“Good?”  


Dean could only manage a little murmur of agreement through the unfamiliar drench of pleasure that stopped his voice from working at all. They lay there together for several minutes before he spoke again. The fear of Castiel becoming bored with him and moving on had made him cautious. Dean didn’t want to get used to having that feeling if it was just going to be taken away again. He knew his heart would never heal if he gave it to Castiel, only to have it broken.  


“Yes, sir… sorry. That was real nice and it feels so good lying here with you. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me, but - ” Dean sighed when he saw Castiel frown with concern. “This isn’t my life.”  


“It could be.” Castiel said impulsively. Suddenly he didn’t care about sleep at all, needing Dean so badly, it hurt. “I took you because I thought I should, but now I’m with you because I want to be.”  


“But surely it’s forbidden for you to give me pleasure. I’m nothing.” Dean said quietly, still breathless from the cascade of bliss shooting down his spine. “What I want doesn’t matter, it never has.” It hadn't gone unnoticed his master had asked for nothing in return.  


“It matters to me.” Castiel said softly, before kissing him again. Dean was still trembling, muscles in his stomach fluttering while the sensation slowly faded until only the memory remained. “Just remember yourself in front of my brother, Dean. I don’t want to give him any reason to take you away from me.” Castiel couldn’t even think about his conversation with Michael or what would happen to him when he refused to marry. He didn’t say anything to Dean, but suspected he probably overheard Michael’s threats and understood completely what that would mean for both of them. He could see Dean was thinking too hard again, but didn’t want anything to spoil the beautiful sense of release that must have settled in his veins.  


The heavy pollen-laden air drifted in through the window and made Dean sated and sleepy again. Castiel drew him closer and pressed a gentle promise into his hair.  


“Whatever happens, I won’t leave you.”  


Dean closed his eyes and curled into Castiel’s side with his head resting on his chest. He clung to him desperately. Falling asleep for the first time in his life with the warm safety of another man’s arms wrapped around him.


	5. Chapter 5

Dawn light stirred Dean awake, eyes flickering open in alarm when he realized he must have fallen asleep. He cursed lightly under his breath, only meaning to close his eyes for a second. Now he was held fast in Castiel’s arms with warm breaths skimming over the skin of his back with every fresh exhalation. Many years of conditioning made Dean fearful of forgetting his place. Not sure how he was supposed to feel about the fact his master was lying next to him with one arm draped over the curve of Dean’s hip in a surprisingly possessive gesture, forcing him to remember that was really all he was. A possession.

A bondslave who would never have the privilege of making his own choices about who he was allowed to fall in love with. Dean swallowed down the bitter injustice of sharing a silken bed with someone so soft and warm when he knew a happiness like that could never last. Dean stared over his shoulder, watching the flit of Castiel’s eyelashes flutter restlessly as dreams took him. He would never be able to stay with him, no matter what promises Castiel made before they both drifted off to sleep. He shouldn’t be there, and Dean was scared his master might think he was deliberately taking advantage of the sexual desire he had for him, so he carefully slipped out of Castiel’s embrace and retreated back to the small confines of his own room. Dean knew one careless move could cost him Castiel’s affections, mistakenly believing he might soon be cast aside and forgotten like so many before him. The cruel words of the men who taunted him with tales of Castiel’s promiscuity had lodged their way into his head and his heart. A jealousy he never felt before started to scratch away at all his insecurity.

Dean lay down on his bed and tried to go back to sleep, which proved almost impossible when he still felt so vulnerable and confused. He wanted to feel Castiel’s mouth on him again. Give in to the need to be close to him, but it was all just a cruel illusion. If Lucifer ever discovered they had shared a bed, Dean had no doubt he would be sent away forever and everything would be lost anyway.

Castiel must have sensed his hands suddenly seemed too empty, and stretched out on his back in the dark to reach out for Dean. All he could feel was the brush of satin against searching fingertips. There was nothing in the space where his slave had been resting. The soft folds of material still held the warmth of Dean’s body, and Castiel sat up with a start and called out to him.

Dean couldn’t find it in him to reply and pretended to be asleep. If Castiel knew he was awake, he could easily coax him back into his bed and those feelings of helplessness would soon return with the touch of one soft kiss or the promise of a seductive caress. Castiel frowned through the silence and pushed himself out of bed with a yawn. He lit a small storm lamp and lifted it above his head when he reached the entrance to Dean’s room. The yellow light spread out in front of him and bounced off every corner of the tiny closet. He could see Dean lying on his side with his face pressed up against the wall, shoulders rising and falling with the soft breaths of sleep. Castiel put down the lamp and sat beside him. Dean tensed when he thought he was caught, but to his amazement Castiel just pulled the sheet over his body and leaned over to press a tender kiss to his cheek. He whispered a gentle goodnight before he left him to rest. Dean felt himself relax when he saw the reflections fade and the room was plunged into darkness again. Castiel returned to bed alone.

Dean lay awake for a long time, many treacherous thoughts playing with his mind and forcing him to accept there could never be anything more between them. His heart would be broken and he would likely be sent away. Never to see Sam again. Dean made a reluctant decision in his head before he finally let sleep take him.

Castiel awoke early next morning to the perplexing sight of Dean standing rigidly by the window with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes staring straight ahead like his master expected. The drapes were pulled slightly apart and Castiel hesitated while he spared a token glance around the room just to check if one of his brothers might be hiding somewhere nearby, waiting to test his obedience. Dean looked so stilted and uncomfortable, it forced Castiel out of bed. He slowly stood up and approached his servant until he was standing directly in front of him with his head tipped to one side. Trying to catch Dean’s eye and take the chance to ask why he suddenly seemed so coldly detached. So different from the responsive lover he embraced the night before when Castiel brought him to an explosive climax. Letting Dean fall asleep in his arms with a whispered promise. The intimacy between them escalating into a beautiful conclusion when Dean unintentionally called him Cas, and he liked it.

“Good morning, Dean. Is everything alright?” Castiel asked skeptically. Dean just gave him a mute nod. “I thought maybe we could start on your letters today. I'm sure you will grasp it quickly.”

Dean avoided his gaze completely. Still staring over his master's shoulder at some imaginary point of interest on the wall behind him. Castiel tried to hide his confusion at the unexpected change. It was almost like everything that had gone before never happened at all. It pulled at his insides, making him want to grab Dean by the shoulders and shake him until he confessed he cared for Castiel in return. Dean did his best to maintain a stoic expression when Castiel reached up to touch his face. His resolve soon faltered. Castiel was dangerous, addictive in a way that could only bring him pain and heartache. Dean refused to respond to the delicate strokes across his skin, forcing himself to keep his voice steady when he replied.

“I will do my best, sir.”

His whole body trembled when Castiel stepped away and dropped his hand heavily back to his side. He couldn’t pretend any longer. Something had definitely changed between them.

“Dean, what is it? What’s the matter?”

“I think it would be best if you called me Winchester, Mr. Novak, sir.” Dean said, after a thoughtful pause.

“Stop it, Dean… what’s wrong with you?” Castiel gasped. “Didn’t you understand anything I said to you last night?” Now it was Castiel’s turn to feel that bitter sting of resentment Dean suffered since the moment he started to believe Castiel might just be playing with his heart until a fresh young face turned his head. Dean couldn’t stop himself from asking if any of what the men said about him was true.

“What exactly did they say?” Castiel asked quietly when Dean had finished. Suspecting he was often the subject of hushed conversations over at the camp and his name didn't usually command anything close to fondness or respect. Dean seemed to find it difficult to continue, blinking a couple of times to clear the water from his eyes.

“That you whored out most of the boys in your care until you got bored with them - and I’m just the latest one you want to tease with the promise of your affection.” Castiel felt his mouth go dry. He was so stunned any part of Dean might really believe that to be true, it stopped him from being able to answer right away. He stammered out a response while the heat started to creep up his neck.

“Are you suggesting I would be content to put anyone's dick in my mouth?” He was starting to colour up across the top of his cheeks. Dean wasn’t sure if it was because he was embarrassed by the explicit imagery or that anger was starting to get the better of him.

“Of course not, sir. It's not my place to suggest anything.”

Castiel stepped back, frantically searching Dean’s face for some vague hint of emotion. He guessed well enough now what brought on such a sudden change in him.

“I don’t care what you’ve been told about me, Dean. I have never done that to another man before and I will be damned if I'm going to apologize for it.”

“Does that mean my new duties will also include letting you do whatever you want to me?”

Castiel hesitated for a moment. Failing to hide the look of confused disappointment that made an uncertain attempt at a smile quickly fade away to nothing.

“I don’t know,” He answered slowly. “I was hoping maybe your willingness to lay with me wouldn't be something I had to demand.”

Dean’s face softened when he finally allowed himself to look up at his master.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t seem to help it. I don’t know what to think anymore, or what it is you really want from me.”

“Dean, not all you were told is true. I have been with some of them, yes, but certainly not as many as those men are implying and it was nothing like this. Why can’t you see what I have with you is different? Before I saw you, I believed I might never feel anything again. Despite what my brother would say, nothing about this feels wrong.”

“Sir.” Dean started, but soon corrected himself when he remembered what he called him the night before. Castiel’s eyes were now trained on his lips when Dean mouthed his name again. Sending a shiver of desire through every part of him like Dean was saying it for the first time. “Cas, I’m so scared of letting myself want you as much as I do, and I don’t want to speak out of turn but I'm ashamed to admit I liked what you did to me. How much I want that again.” Dean dropped his head to stare at the floor. Castiel’s piercing eyes were far too intense to be able to withstand them for more than a few seconds at a time. When he looked up again, Dean was lost to the demands of his body. The desperate need that pulsed between his legs whenever he was close enough to touch his master. “I don’t even know what you expect from me now, or how I’m supposed to feel about you, but there’s this ache here inside me that won’t go away and I don’t know what it means.” Dean pressed a clenched fist into the space between his ribs while he struggled to explain what was happening inside him whenever they were together. Castiel didn’t know what to say but Dean quickly changed the subject, already talking again. “But don’t think I’m not grateful for you teaching me to write a letter for my brother.” Dean had tried so hard to explain, but everything always seemed to come out wrong when Castiel was staring at him like that. “I can’t ask you to do that unless you accept something from me in return. I don’t want Master Michael to send me away. I know he doesn’t want us to be together and it’s only a matter of time before he figures out why. I don’t want to have to go away. I want you to help me find my Sammy. I need to save him, Cas. I was supposed to look after him.” Dean added in a whisper. Directed more to himself than to anyone else.

There was a pitiful look of desperation in those beautiful green eyes. Castiel moved in front of Dean and reached down to take one of his hands. Dean almost pulled away, resisting the desire for Castiel to hold him in a gesture of comfort for as long as he could. Dean soon gave in to his grief and let his master pull him against his chest, stroking his hair while he hushed him. A strange feeling was stirring inside him again like a tiny seed of hope that had grown into something more as it curled ever upwards, pushing out all the darkness. When Castiel tilted his head up to gently kiss him, there was a sweet drench of bliss. Dean closed his eyes and breathed him in like the potent scent that sometimes drifted across the vines and made him heady and impulsive.

“Dean, listen to me.” Castiel said, reluctantly pulling away and resting Dean’s face in his hands. “You have suffered enough injustice in my brother’s name. I know you don’t want to hear it, but what I said to you last night still stands. Even if they make me go away, I swear I won’t leave you here and condemn you to servitude.” Castiel was bound by the promise he would stay with Dean rather than sentence him to a lifetime of misery and pain he never deserved in the first place.

“It’s not that I don’t want to hear it, sir. I’m just scared you don’t mean it.”

Castiel couldn’t even manage a reply. He held Dean close for a very long time.

 

Michael spent most of the morning allowing his mind to be consumed by the brooding anger festering inside him at being forced to concede that the Winchester boy would be allowed to stay with Castiel. He refused to let one worthless slave threaten his authority or the power he still had over the rest of the estate. Michael already intended to marry Castiel off and force him to leave Dean behind, but there was something about the way they looked at each other when he pulled them apart that made him uneasy. It needed to be dealt with.

Michael went straight to Lucifer with his suspicions there was a lot more to the relationship between Castiel and Dean Winchester than either of them implied. His betrayal motivated by panic and the desire to separate them before Castiel became more attached to his slave than he already was. Lucifer listened to his concerns with an indifference that seemed to be a character trait running through the blood of their family like a poison. Determined to prove Michael wrong by making Castiel flog that boy to prove there was nothing between them.

Michael could hardly wait to deliver that terrible news to Castiel. Dean was helping him to dress with caring touches and a fondness Michael knew was nothing like the way a slave would usually tend to his master.

Lucifer followed Michael back to Castiel’s quarters, sweeping his brother effortlessly aside with a simple wave of his hand. Michael conceded to his authority without a single word of protest, but wasted no time in searching the rooms for some evidence he was telling the truth. Lucifer made straight for the small recess at the back of the bedroom where most personal servants were housed. Even in the dim light, he could see there was a narrow cot set out for someone to sleep in. He soon realized it was intended for the Winchester boy. Bile rising up in his throat when he saw the sheets were still freshly laundered. The bed looked like it had barely been slept in at all.

It wasn't much of a stretch to suspect they were doing a lot more than he had agreed to when Castiel begged for Dean to stay there with him. Michael ordered Dean to be taken outside. Castiel almost choked on his own voice when he pleaded with Lucifer not to make him do something so horrible. He ran after them down the long hallway, but Michael grabbed his arm. Holding his brother back while Dean was dragged into the open courtyard before he even registered what was happening.

“You will marry that girl, and you will whip that boy into submission to prove he means nothing to you.” Castiel felt his knees buckle with the realization of what they wanted him to do. “If you refuse to do this Castiel, I will do everything in my power to make sure Lucifer sees you for what you are and disinherits you from all our father has done here.” That was no threat. Castiel didn’t care for any of it anymore, but he knew Dean longed to see Sam again. He had no choice but to submit to their cruel demands. If Michael wanted to believe Castiel was doing it for him, then let him. He could never tell Lucifer why he had no desire to marry. Always making out he wanted to wait for their father to return before he moved away and took on the management of another piece of land. Lucifer had not forgotten his betrayal the last time a partner had been chosen for him, and Michael’s warnings were still fresh in his mind. He had to make sure Castiel wasn’t lying. Making the fateful decision to force him to prove it by showing it was definitely not lust for his new slave boy that had swayed his decision.

Castiel understood if he faltered in any way, the affection growing in his heart for Dean would be exposed completely. He didn’t care about what they might do to him, and would rather be dead or exiled before being forced into a loveless marriage with no hope of ever seeing Dean again. Castiel always felt like he was coerced or bullied into hiding what he was because he knew Michael had more than suspected he never had the slightest interest in pursuing a relationship with anyone else. Castiel could feel the fear start to grip at his throat when he caught up with Dean where he had been deposited in the middle of the yard.

“I can’t do this, Dean. I won’t do this to you. I don’t care what Lucifer said.” Dean looked up at him and shook his head. He whispered to him in a low voice no one else could hear before the men returned to strap him to the post.

“Sir - if you don’t, then they’ll force us apart. You'll be exiled or married and I will never be able to get my brother back.”

“I know how important that is to you, but I don’t think I can, Dean. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“Castiel.” Dean said slowly, lifting up his head while his master stared into his eyes. Surprised he could be dominated so easily with that one simple word. Dean tried to show as much courage as he could over the building panic coursing through his veins. “It’s not just for Sam. I don’t ever want to be without you, Cas. I don’t.” Dean murmured. Someone came up behind him and grabbed at his wrists. They forced him away from Castiel and led him to the centre of the clearing with his hands held firmly behind his back. Lucifer watched his little brother with cold suspicion while two of his men prepared to tether Dean to the whipping post.

He had taken beatings before. Pain was just a part of his life on the plantation, and he still possessed the raised scars of many punishments as well as the fresh lines of correction Castiel tried to wash away. Dean was now standing in the middle of a circle of dirt with his legs spread apart and a rope tied crudely around each one of his wrists, secured by two metal loops. They were attached to a thick wooden pole set into the ground, so his arms were stretched above his head.

Lucifer took hold of Castiel’s hand and prised his fingers apart so he could thrust the round hilt of a whip into his palm. Castiel stared down at the wrappings of bound leather in horror. The very touch of it seemed to taint his delicate skin. A tight knot forming in his throat and stopping him from taking a single breath for almost a minute. Lucifer was standing impatiently by Castiel’s side, waiting for him to deliver the first strike but he couldn’t seem to move at all. Voice cracked and broken when he stared back at Dean and let the strap fall limp in his hand.

“I can’t.”

Dean kept Castiel fixed in front of him with so much trust in his eyes it made him want to weep. He stumbled blindly forward and watched his beautiful boy pull the muscles taut in his back, spreading his feet apart to steady himself. Dean bit hard into the soft flesh inside his cheek before mouthing a silent acceptance.

“It’s alright… do it.”

Dean inhaled a long deep breath, holding Castiel’s gaze while he dug his toes into the earth for balance. He tried hard to force a smile, but the expression of hopelessness stretching across his master’s face almost made him want to try and struggle free. Dean wanted Castiel to do it if it meant that would stop him being taken from him. Knowing he would be sent away if Michael ever found out they wanted to sleep together. He would make sure Dean was gone forever and Castiel would never be allowed to take another man into his quarters.

Castiel had to do it. Had to protect Dean’s position there. The strength in those green eyes made the tears stream down Castiel’s cheeks with every brutal stroke he would have to lash against that glistening skin. His whole body was trembling when Castiel forced his hand to bring down the tendrils of rough hide again and again, until he couldn’t even see Dean’s cuts for the tears that flooded his eyes. Everything was hazy and he felt dreadfully faint. He didn’t think he could deliver another single strike when someone touched his arm and lowered the weapon to his side.

“Enough, Castiel… that’s enough.” He heard the soft command of his brother’s voice behind him. Almost dropping with relief when he knew it was over.

Dean had fallen forward, head hanging low while he was released from the bonds and dragged away from the post. Castiel felt his body lurch before collapsing to his knees. His hands were still shaking when he bent down in the dirt and emptied his stomach over the dusty earth. Tinted with a dull red where Dean’s blood was now drying in the early morning sun.

“Castiel.” Lucifer’s shadow appeared at his side. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder. “Get up. It’s only one slave.” The words cut into his heart almost as deep as the lines he scored across Dean’s back, the last brands of correction still all too clear underneath the rows of fresh lashes Castiel had covered him with.

Castiel wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and looked up to see a deep void of nothingness in his brother’s eyes. It told him everything he ever needed to know. He just wanted to gather Dean up in his arms and hold him close until the rest of the world faded away and he was happy and safe again. In that one defining moment Castiel knew Lucifer had never been more wrong. Dean wasn’t just one slave. He was something bright in a dark emptiness that had held on to him all his life. Castiel never realized just how dead he was inside until that spark of life had been set on fire by all the unexpected emotions flowing through him when he touched Dean’s skin or felt his mouth against his own.

“Take the boy back to my brother’s quarters.” Lucifer ordered, glancing over at Castiel. “He can rest there until his back is healed and he is able to return to the vines.” The men who had shackled Dean to the post unfastened his bonds and carried his limp body back to the house in silence. The only expression of acceptance Castiel had not abused his position was a simple nod of acknowledgment from Lucifer before he turned and walked away. He didn't grant Michael the same courtesy. Glaring at him with distaste for wasting his time with groundless accusations.

Castiel had passed the test but none of that really mattered anymore. Dean might never forgive him.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean was completely unresponsive while Lucifer’s slaves carried him away from the whipping post. He was a dead weight, so the pace was slow enough for Castiel to catch up with them after he eventually managed to stand. His legs were still shaky and weak, not certain they would hold him up for very long as he stumbled after the men. Many more tears fell down his face as he watched them drop Dean’s legs to the ground, making it easier just to drag him most of the way with their hands hooked under each one of his arms. Castiel had thrown down the whip with contempt as soon as it was over. Even through the hazy veil of drying tears, he could see Dean’s head was lolling forward. Fighting to keep his eyes open. Castiel felt another surge of bile rise in his throat, threatening to make him throw up again. Terrified his brother might suddenly change his mind when he saw how distressed he was, half-expecting to hear a shout behind him that would call him back and break his heart into pieces. Castiel held his breath while he hurried to catch up to the others, staggering up the porch steps to open the door so the men could carry Dean inside. A handful of the regular house servants had started to gather in the entrance hall to see what all the noise was about, but Castiel could hardly speak. Just gesturing for them to move aside so Dean could be taken upstairs to his bedroom. When they got to the top of the winding staircase, Castiel ushered them down the landing before ordering the men to lay Dean on his bed. They stopped just short of the doorway and exchanged a hesitant glance. Dean was still dangling between them, both feet bent almost completely back where they were pressing against the hard floor.

“Master Castiel, sir.” One of them finally dared to speak after an uncomfortable pause. “I don’t think that’s allowed. Does the boy not have anywhere else to rest?”

“I’m not asking you.” Castiel said quietly, stepping back before pointing towards the imposing four-poster set in the middle of his room. “Put him in my bed.” The men were still reluctant, knowing Master Lucifer would not approve. He might easily decide to take out his displeasure on them for doing something they knew was forbidden, but Castiel looked so desperate for Dean to find some relief. Castiel’s expression soon softened, quickly taking the place of one of the slaves at Dean’s side so he could help lift him onto the bed. “I will take responsibility for it. You do not need to fear any punishment for doing as I say.” The men were put in an impossible position, but Castiel was already easing Dean’s slack body on top of the coverlet. He made a pitiful noise that showed how much pain he was in, but Castiel swallowed down his guilt and helped the other man to roll Dean onto his side. He almost wished he hadn’t when his gaze dropped down to the raised lines of open skin. Another sob caught in his throat, knowing he was the one who had done that to someone he cared about so much. Castiel couldn’t even stand to look at it, closing his eyes when he turned him again so Dean was lying on his back.

Castiel was so concerned about Dean it made him careless. Not even waiting for the other slaves to leave before he sat down next to him on the edge of his bed and reached out to stroke the side of his face with a depth of affection he never knew he had. His chest felt tight, like he was finding it hard to take in enough air. Castiel didn’t think he would ever be able to erase the image of Dean falling onto his knees in the dust when he struck him for the last time. Dean was almost delirious with pain, twitching restlessly whenever Castiel touched him. Even the soft caress of satin from delicate sheets beneath him hurt when he moved, and some of the material was already sticking to his back where the wounds were still leaking. His blood failed to clot over a few of the deeper strikes, and sweat was now pouring out from pores just under the line of his hair. Some of the longer strands clung to his face when he eventually turned to look at Castiel.

“Cas?” Dean asked weakly. His eyelids fluttered, but all he could see was a blurry image of indistinct shapes and colour.

“I’m here.” Castiel said gently, willing Dean to open up his eyes and accept his forgiveness. “I’m right here.” Dean was almost completely out of it, but the soft murmur of his master’s voice served to settle him a little. Castiel was still crying when he examined Dean’s damp skin, searching for some response that would let him know he was going to be alright. His lips were so dry they were starting to pale, so Castiel reached over for the jug of water at the side of his bed. He tried to encourage Dean to tilt his head forward and take a small sip from one edge but he couldn’t even manage to hold it up, so Castiel dipped the ends of his fingers into the pitcher and gently rubbed the cool water across Dean’s lips. He instinctively pulled Castiel’s fingertips deep into his mouth, sucking all the water from them in a pitiful attempt to relieve the searing thirst. When Dean stirred again, Castiel could see the colour of his eyes slowly filtering out. The bright green replaced with something dull and dark. Castiel wanted to believe he saw Dean's mouth start to curve into a smile when his vision cleared. Begging for forgiveness before the boy managed to say anything more. “Dean, I’m so sorry.” Castiel just couldn’t hold back his emotions anymore, sobbing openly while he cradled Dean close to his chest and pushed desperate kisses into his hair. “I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to do that to you. I’m so sorry, please forgive me.” Dean didn’t reply straight away. Castiel wondered if his inability to stand up to Lucifer may have cost him the love of the only person he ever truly cared for. Dean lifted his head from the pillow and made a faltering attempt to speak.

“It was the only way.” Dean managed to force out through parched lips. Castiel reached into the water a second time, and Dean tried once again to sit up to meet the wet fingertips almost touching his mouth. “The only way to stop them from sending me away from you.”

“Oh, Dean.” Castiel sounded breathless when he carefully lifted Dean off the bed so he could hold him even closer. He stayed quiet while Castiel embraced him. Dean had never really been cuddled like that before. He thought it felt nice to have someone’s arms around him, but he wasn’t sure it meant quite the same thing when you were grown. So different from the way he had done that to Sam, or the last time his mother held him. Kissing each one of his eyes before slipping into a sleep she never came back from. Dean hesitantly reached out and wound his fingers tightly into the material of Castiel's shirt. Using it to pull himself up. Castiel was still inhaling shallow breaths above him, almost smothering Dean with a possessive desperation he had never allowed himself to give in to before.

Castiel held Dean until he lost consciousness again. When he finally awoke, Dean realized he was alone. It was late evening and the light in Castiel’s room was only just bright enough to see grey outlines in the flickering shadows that danced on the walls as the sun began to set. Dean tried to move onto his side but it was still too painful. Attempting to call out for his master in the dark, but his voice failed him. Dehydration had ravaged his weakened body and he reached blindly for the water, but the pitcher was missing along with one of the sullied sheets he was resting on, and Castiel. He had no idea where he could be, or if he had been called away but Dean knew if he was found in his master’s bed, they would both be punished. He prepared himself for the inevitable agony and slipped out from under the sheets, recoiling with pain when his knees hit the floor. He pulled himself up on all fours and practically crawled back to the recess behind Castiel’s quarters before collapsing on his own bed. Dean settled himself on his stomach with both arms resting above his head. Burying his face in the pillow while he waited for the relentless throbbing in his back to fade. He must have drifted off again, because the next thing he knew was Castiel sitting by his side. Leaning over him and trying to rouse him from sleep.

“What are you doing?” Castiel asked quietly, without waiting for Dean to reply. “You scared me half to death when I came back and saw you were gone. Why did you get out of bed?” Dean was struggling to turn over to face him but he didn’t want Castiel to think he was ungrateful, and tipped his head back so he could hear him.

“I didn’t want you to be in trouble.” Dean rasped out.

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t mean that, sir. If Master Michael finds out you let me lie in your bed, it would only make him angry.” Castiel shook his head sadly. He hadn't missed the grim tell-tale trail of blood and dirt that led from his bed to the closet where Dean had dragged himself back to his cot.

“Dean - ” Castiel tried to hush him. He didn’t really want to think about it anymore, but the threat of Michael’s influence in determining their fate couldn't be cast aside so lightly.

“Could he force you to leave?” Dean asked urgently, heart sinking with the thought all the suffering he endured to try and keep them together might have been for nothing. Castiel’s eyes opened a little wider. He hadn’t really considered Michael might do something so drastic, but it wasn’t an impossibility.

“I don’t think so. My father is only presumed dead, and if he returns and I'm not here, then the others will have to answer for it. I’m not worried, and you shouldn’t be either.” Castiel said kindly, pushing himself up on his knees so he could stand. “You need to get better, Dean. Go back to sleep.”

“Cas.” Dean coughed out his name, suddenly grabbing him weakly by the wrist and holding onto Castiel with as much strength as he could find. “Stay.”

“Dean…” Castiel wanted to let him rest but he couldn’t bring himself to pull his arm away when Dean was looking up at him with so much hope in his eyes.

“Please.” Dean gasped. Still too exhausted to hold Castiel there by force so he released the grip around his master’s arm. Dean closed his eyes again. “I need you.”

Castiel had seen that childlike desire for comfort once before when Dean hadn’t known he was being watched. It was the night Castiel went to him in the stable. Dean had been petting one of the horses. It seemed like a lifetime ago already. Castiel thought it must have been very hard for him to find any shred of affection in his position as a slave, or to have something soft to rest his hand against that didn’t want to take everything that belonged to him. He deserved that much at least, and Castiel pressed his lips together before letting out a long breath of air. He carefully lay down next to Dean in the modest bed that was really just a pile of sheets on the floor. He thought he heard Dean murmur a sleepy _thank you_   when Castiel slipped one arm around his waist and pressed their bodies together, but it was so faint he might have imagined it.

 

Castiel woke up to a crick in his neck and Dean’s fingers wrapped tightly around his hand like he was scared to let it go. He was still fast asleep, but his breathing sounded forced and Castiel was concerned the damage he had done ran a lot deeper than the torn surface of Dean's skin. It would take a lot longer for both of them to repair the emotional pain he caused.

Michael already sent a message up to Castiel's quarters that morning, requesting to see him again. No doubt to discuss the details of his contemptible plans to marry him off and keep him away from Dean Winchester for good. Castiel had every intention of refusing to agree to any of Michael’s demands. Prepared to tell his brother he would rather die in poverty than be forced to do that. It hurt even more to know Michael probably suspected Castiel could never be happy if he consented to marry someone else. Castiel was desperate to save Dean from being subjected to more persecution, so he swallowed his pride and pretended he was willing to go along with it until Dean was healed. Then they could run away together if they had to.

Michael was waiting for him in the drawing room. He wasted no time in letting Castiel know it was now official the Winchester boy was nothing but trouble, and he was the one responsible for what Lucifer called ‘all that rebellion nonsense.’ In light of Dean’s punishment, Lucifer had given Michael permission to speak on his behalf. He had already written to the girl’s father saying they wished to meet with him to outline the details of Castiel’s proposal. It was the last thing he expected that morning and everything he planned to say to keep up the pretense long enough for Dean to recover suddenly didn’t seem to be enough. Still traumatized by the horror of his experience the day before, and in no mood to pacify either one of the brothers who seemed determined to go out of their way to make his life miserable.

“Just leave him alone, Michael.” Castiel forced out, hands dropping to his sides while he curled up his fists in defiance. “I will never forgive you for what you made me do yesterday, and I refuse to even discuss this with you right now.”

“Lucifer made you flog that slave boy, Castiel, not me.”

“On your order!” Castiel suddenly found himself unable to push down the resentment left simmering in him all day every time he closed his eyes. All he could see was the terrible damage he had done to someone he cared for so much. “You put those doubts in Lucifer’s head. He never would have suspected if you hadn’t said something.”

“Suspected what?” Michael asked coldly. A flicker of realization made him stand up a little straighter while he stared Castiel down. “Are you sleeping with him?”  


Castiel bit back the words he really wanted to say, refusing to give his brother the satisfaction of telling him anything one way or the other.

“If I said I was, then you would no doubt make me hurt him again and if I said no, then you wouldn’t believe me. So what’s the point in even justifying that with a response?”

Castiel left Michael staring at his back in stunned disbelief when he walked away.

 

Castiel went straight back upstairs, making sure this time his rooms were locked from the inside before he went to find Dean. All he could think about was how much he wanted to rid himself of the heartache and regret he had experienced since Dean came into his care. It wasn’t just the torture of knowing how much he physically hurt him the day before, but the crushing guilt that wouldn’t leave him alone when he remembered how Castiel helped himself to the tight heat of Dean’s body without his permission for the first time. It had all been an empty illusion. His young bondservant brought him so much joy and happiness. More than anything, he wanted that love to be real.

Dean was curled up on his bed where Castiel left him when he returned. He was still so angry with Michael, he couldn’t stop himself from repeating what was said. Even though he didn’t believe for one minute there was any truth to it. Dean thought back to some imaginary point in time where any of those allegations might have somehow been warranted, but he had nothing to do with any uprising and couldn’t understand why he would be singled out like that.

“Sir, I never did any of those things they’re accusing me of. I accepted my position in life would be to serve others a long time ago.” Dean said quietly, pushing himself up on his elbows until he was almost level with Castiel. “I don’t like it, but I’ve always accepted it.” Castiel once found it hard to understand how Dean managed to hold on to so much hope, but to really believe something like that and not be bitter about it at all, was something that took more strength than he could imagine. Castiel reached for one of Dean’s hands and curled his fingers around it.

“I don’t care what the men are saying down at the camp, Dean. If _you_ say you are innocent, then I believe you.” He paused for a second. Dean could see something else was bothering him as well. “I don’t think that was the only reason he wanted you sent away. Michael is a cruel man. He would do anything to make sure my temptation is gone.”

“Temptation?” Dean echoed. He was still in pain and finding it hard to focus on any conversation that required him to actually think.

“You, Dean.” Castiel smiled gently, running one hand across the curve of Dean’s shoulder. The muscles were tight under his touch. Defined planes well developed from many years of working on the land while his body had grown from a boy into a man. Castiel moved his hand down a little more. He felt a stirring in his groin at the slide of warm, young skin beneath his fingertips. “Michael knows I care for you and he won’t let me bring shame on the family by giving my heart to another man.” Dean shrugged aimlessly. He didn’t seem at all bothered by the remark.

“I never understood why so many people think that’s wrong.” Castiel looked at Dean in amazement, slowly tightening the grip around his hand. No one ever acknowledged what he was with so much honest acceptance it made him want to cry. All his life Castiel had been made to feel like he was sick, or that there was something unnatural about the way he was made but Dean effortlessly dismissed many years of pain and discrimination with that one innocent comment.

“Me either.” Castiel laughed softly, daring to believe the developing love he had for his gentle bondslave might one day be returned.

 

Dean finally managed to get out of bed, and Castiel allowed his rooms to be opened for an hour to allow one of the other servants to fill his bath tub with warm water so he could clean Dean’s wounds again. The fact he should have to do that for the second time in as many days made him feel terrible. Dean seemed to have granted him some forgiveness, but Castiel hated himself inside for what he'd done. Waiting until they were alone before he turned to look at Dean over his shoulder with a seductive smile.

“I want to take a bath.” Castiel said thoughtfully, starting to undress. He made his way through to the other room, carelessly depositing his clothes on the floor. Leaving a trail for Dean to follow.

“I still can’t move very well, but I'll do my best, sir.” Dean replied patiently. He fetched a cloth and some towels and set them out on the bed. He heard the distinctive sound of splashing and guessed Castiel must have decided to get in by himself. He appeared in the doorway to find his master already waiting for him.

“No, Dean. This time I want you to come in with me.” Castiel said, stretching out one hand towards him and wiggling his fingers in invitation. “Come.” Castiel insisted. Dean hesitated uncertainly for a moment before he dropped his breeches and gingerly stepped into the water, careful not to bend too much while his back was still tender. He never seemed to care much about anyone seeing him naked. Probably a sad consequence of the way he had been treated on the plantation. All too often just used to relieve some sexual frustration in the most brutal way Castiel could imagine. It genuinely pained him to know he had once done the same, swearing he would never let that happen to Dean again. Castiel had a delicious view of his perfect ass when Dean slowly lowered himself into the clear water until he was nestled firmly between Castiel’s knees, both arms resting loosely on either side of the tub.

Almost instantly, Dean could feel some of the constant ache wash away. The sensation of Castiel’s wet skin rubbing against his own warmed him inside. If Dean wasn't in so much pain it would have been impossible not to be aroused by it, but Castiel wasn't in pain and Dean could feel something rigid digging into the base of his back. Castiel tentatively slipped his arm around Dean’s waist, encouraging him to lean towards him and rest his head in the dip of one shoulder. Dean flinched slightly when the water lapped against the marks, but he knew if he could endure it until the sting faded it would help his skin to heal much faster.

Castiel had no control over his body when Dean was pressed up against him, doing his best to ignore an erection while he washed Dean carefully. Trying to make sure his hand didn’t brush against the sores by mistake. Castiel still couldn’t bring himself to look directly at them but when Dean bent forward, he accidentally caught a fleeting glance of the deeper lines across the top of Dean’s back. Castiel's stomach turned over. There was something off about the way they looked. More raised than they were the night before and leaking something that definitely wasn’t blood. Castiel forced himself to calm the rapid beat of his heart in case Dean could feel it suddenly pulsing against his back. He didn’t want to worry him. It was all so beautiful just sitting there together until the water started to cool. Castiel didn’t want anything to spoil that perfect moment for Dean now he was quiet and relaxed.

“Dean?” Castiel asked softly. Silence settling around them while he continued to cleanse the wounds by cupping up small handfuls of water and letting them trickle gently down Dean's back. Castiel reached up to run his hands through Dean’s hair, watching the wet strands slip effortlessly through his fingers. Dean curved his body against Castiel’s chest. Murmuring a quiet response that sounded more like a hum of contentment than anything else. “You know I’m falling in love with you, don’t you?”

Castiel felt Dean tense against him. Just catching him mumble the words _yes, sir_   in a barely audible whisper. Dean had no idea he was now the one who would soon have complete power over his master.


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel took in a deep breath and dropped his hands back into the water, unable to ignore the way Dean always seemed so unsure of how to respond whenever he admitted how much he cared about the boy. Castiel couldn’t think of any other explanation than being in love that would make his heart pound and his insides flutter every time Dean came close. 

“Sorry. I know you don’t want me to say things like that.” Castiel breathed against the back of Dean’s neck. He shivered between his thighs at the sensation. 

“It’s not that, sir.” 

“My mistake, then.” Castiel hummed. Thinking it would be easier just to humour him, and distracting himself by smoothing both palms down either side of Dean’s hips. The muscles were pulled taut where his fingertips slid over them, and Castiel sensed Dean was still holding something back. “I just want to touch you all the time. You have no idea what you do to me.” Castiel added. Dean shuffled uncomfortably, playing with the soap to give his hands something to do so he wasn’t tempted to show Castiel exactly how much he wanted to touch him back. After a few more blissful minutes, Castiel tapped Dean on the ass to encourage him to get out before they both got a chill. 

Castiel watched in silence with his mouth open while water trickled all the way down the length of Dean’s back when he stood up. Rolling off the paler curves of his buttocks and underneath the line of tanned skin that covered the rest of his body. There was something so physically raw about him that made Castiel want to caress him all over. Hiding a sensitive soul who was crying out to be protected and adored. Dean seemed reluctant to let Castiel love him and he wasn’t entirely sure why. 

He waited for Dean to step out of the water completely, not least because he wanted to admire the way his skin glistened in the soft light of the room. Castiel felt another pulse of want between his legs when Dean bent forward to steady himself on the nearest wall. He wasn’t used to taking steamy baths. The heat of the water relaxed him so much it made his head swim. 

Castiel hurriedly jumped out to help while he grabbed for a bath sheet. Wrapping it tightly around Dean’s middle before taking his arm to help him through to the bedroom, and propping him against one side of the four-poster while he slipped on a robe. Dean’s clothes were in dire need of a wash, so Castiel picked them up and threw them in the laundry before handing him a clean pair of drawers. He turned around just in time to see Dean arc over in front of him. He was still struggling to move because of the pain in his back, so Castiel crouched down in front of him and helped to guide in his feet. He was kneeling between his legs when he gently pulled them up to his thighs. Dean instinctively reached down to touch his hair. Castiel looked up into Dean’s eyes. He was breathing heavily above him when Castiel edged his face a little closer to the space between those beautiful hips. Dean was starting to swell with the thought his master might put his mouth on him again, but Castiel suddenly blinked and yanked them all the way up to his waist. Quickly turning away to focus on something other than the desire making him twitch. Mind suddenly drawn back to the promise he made to help Dean write a letter in the hope of finding news of his brother. Dean understood how much he needed Castiel's help to get Sam back. Always taking the abuse in the hope he might survive long enough to find him. 

Castiel sat down at his roll top and reached inside a drawer to pull out a pad of paper and a quill. The little glass ink pot was already set out on top of the desk, ready to use. Dean was just standing in the middle of the room, watching the movement of Castiel’s long fingers with interest. He seemed reluctant to get any closer. 

“Here, come.” Castiel encouraged, pushing his chair back a little to pat the top of his thigh. “Sit in my lap. Tell me what you remember about the men who captured him. We can start with that.” Dean didn’t hesitate to settle on Castiel’s knee once he was granted the permission he was waiting for. He shifted restlessly on top of him for a few seconds while he tried to get comfortable, hearing his master inhale a sharp breath when he moved. Castiel already suffered the torment of not being able to fulfill the need that awakened when Dean was wedged between his legs while he bathed him. The pressure of his ass pressing down into his lap wearing nothing but a thin pair of Castiel’s undershorts had definitely not helped to cool the fire burning inside him. It took all Castiel had to force those lustful thoughts to one side and concentrate on trying to teach Dean some basics. 

“I can’t remember a whole lot, sir. I was real sick with fever. When I was well enough to go look for him, I didn’t really know how much time had passed or who took him.” Dean answered slowly, reaching for the quill his master set in front of him next to the pot of black ink and the paper. Dean picked it up, just holding it curled in his fist like it would somehow start working all by itself. It made Castiel smile. He gently manipulated Dean’s fingers with care while he showed him how he was supposed to hold it. He seemed ever more determined with each fumbling attempt at trying to develop a skill he never used in his life. He got frustrated very quickly and dropped it down on the blotter with a curse. 

“It’s no good.” Dean sighed, and hung his head. “I’m no good.” Castiel patiently picked it up and slotted it smoothly back between Dean's fingers. 

“That’s not true.” He replied. “You just need some practice.” Dean held his breath when Castiel curled his fingers over his to hold him steady. Daring a tentative stroke of his thumb over the back of Dean's hand. “Don’t give up. Do you honestly think I would be any good at stripping vines all day, or mucking out a stable?” Castiel reassured him with a sweet patience. He would have done anything to help him. Dean laughed quietly and shook his head. 

“Not a chance.” 

Castiel suddenly realized that was the first time he ever heard it. The sound of his pain being replaced by some small murmur of happiness was wonderful, so Castiel conceded the point and tried again. He covered most of Dean’s hand with his own, controlling the movements while he etched out a few basic shapes and tried to get Dean to talk about his family. They had almost nothing to go on, but Castiel was determined they would be able to find Sam if he managed to get word to some of the other local landowners in the county. Maybe even beyond. The winery had brought them many contacts outside the borders of the estate, and there were always native scouts willing to travel the countryside for the price of a single slave. It was more than likely Sam had been taken to work on the land. Castiel hoped with all his heart a young boy of that age hadn't been forced to endure the same indignities his brother had. 

Castiel was lost in thought for a while, trying to come up with a way of being able to locate the boy when he heard Dean make a little gasp of satisfaction. He finally succeeded in copying some of the simpler lines. Dean almost managed to write his name so it was legible by the time the afternoon slipped away. Castiel could see the smile of pride on his face when he admired his handiwork. He lavished Dean with praise, and eventually pushed the paper to one side. Deciding that was more than enough for one day. He had endured the relentless temptation of Dean’s ass rubbing against his dick for the best part of an hour and was rapidly losing the ability to concentrate. Dean was grateful he could stop for a while. His hand was starting to cramp with the amount of effort he put into forming the delicate curves of the letters. Happily abandoning the quill and threading one leg up and over the other so he could face Castiel and show his gratitude. Dean cautiously lifted his arms, letting his hands rest on Castiel’s shoulders. 

“I can’t believe I learned so much already. I don’t know how to thank you.” Dean was staring at Castiel’s mouth, watching his master lick at his bottom lip while he leaned into the irresistible pull of Dean’s touch. Castiel had to give him credit for being able to seduce him without even trying, wondering if the little flit of his eyelashes might have actually been deliberate. Castiel already knew perfectly well how Dean could thank him, but he didn’t want to be that man again. The boy had already managed to soften his heart and dissolve all that cold detachment just by his presence alone. It didn’t seem right to ask for anything more than a simple press of his lips. 

“You don’t have to thank me.” Castiel said quietly. “I promised to help you, and I enjoy your company, Dean. Very much.” Dean opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t seem to find the right words so he just bent his head instead and placed a single shy kiss on Castiel’s mouth. He pulled away slowly, not certain if he transgressed an unwritten rule by taking something he wasn’t really entitled to. Castiel swallowed loudly. He seemed to be cherishing the taste of Dean on his lips when his tongue flicked out again. Dean could see something dark skim across his eyes while he stared up at him. Thinking for a second Castiel was going to kiss him back, but he suddenly rubbed one hand across his face and gave Dean’s butt a little tap. 

“Come on, up you get.” Castiel said, forcing a smile. His self-control was being tested to the absolute limit, and he didn’t trust himself not to capture Dean’s mouth in a dirty, wet kiss if he stayed in his lap much longer. “Michael will be expecting me downstairs soon, and I don’t want to give him any excuse to come up here.” Dean scrambled up and moved away, respectfully turning his back while Castiel discarded the robe and started to dress. The reaction was unexpected, and Dean’s shoulders slumped while he stared mindlessly out the window. He felt Castiel’s fingers curl around his arm. “Dean, I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you, that’s all.” He said softly. Dean gave him a silent nod, but he didn’t turn around. It seemed a rather ridiculous comment to make after everything Castiel had done to him since his arrival. He might have wanted to say something more, but he never got the chance. There was a distinct rap on the door. Castiel reluctantly released his hold on Dean and called out to see who was there. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized it was only one of the other servants who had returned to ask Castiel if he was ready for them to empty the bath water. 

Dean was left alone in Castiel’s rooms for most of the afternoon. He missed him more than he cared to admit, but there was something so fragile about their relationship he didn’t dare to hope they might be able to stay together. Castiel hadn’t told him why Michael wanted to see him again, but he could guess well enough. The constant threat of his master being forced to marry someone else was like a dagger in his heart. Terrifying Dean far more than any physical punishment he might have to endure. The whole idea made him want to retch. He hadn’t been right all day and felt sick every time he moved. 

When Castiel finally returned, he gave Dean a mumbled order to follow him. Dean obeyed at once, and they scurried downstairs. Sneaking out the servant’s entrance without another word passing between them. Dean tailed after Castiel in confused silence while they slipped by the side of the gatehouse and into the field of golden corn stretching out behind the estate. Dean had no idea why Castiel seemed in such a hurry to get away, looking more distressed than Dean had ever seen on him before. Something must have happened during his conversation with Michael. Dean felt the same shard of fear that started to prick at his heart now wedged between his ribs. Castiel didn’t tell him, but he refused outright to go and meet his prospective father-in-law. Making the impetuous decision to spend the rest of the day with Dean instead. 

They were both panting for air by the time they crossed the border between the cornfield and the orchard. Castiel finally stopped underneath one of the trees and leaned up against it. Bent almost double while he tried to get his breath back, explaining to Dean in broken gasps he wanted to get as far away from the house as he could so Michael would never find him in time. Dean stared at him in disbelief. Defying his brother with such wanton disregard was something they would both have to answer for on their return. 

Castiel reached up to one of the lower branches to pluck a shiny red apple from the tree above their heads and offered it to Dean. He just forced a smile, helping himself to a small bite. Castiel was surprised he didn't eat more. Remembering how Dean once devoured all the food given to him with a voracity even his absent brother, Gabriel would find difficult to match. 

“I’m not right hungry, sir.” Dean said, staring down at the apple in his hand. He tossed it away without a second glance. It wasn’t just knowing Castiel might have to share his bed with someone else that made him feel sick to his stomach. He sat down heavily on the flattened corn stalks, shielding his eyes from the bright glare of the sun. Castiel forced his mouth to stay closed, but his face crumpled into a frown. Someone with an appetite like Dean would never be satisfied with a single bite of fruit. Something wasn’t right, and Castiel sat down beside him. Casting a shadow over his face when his body blocked out just enough sunlight so Dean could open his eyes without squinting. 

Castiel petted his hand affectionately. Their eyes met when Dean looked up, biting into the soft flesh inside his cheek when his master leaned towards him. Gaze soon dropping down to study the curve of Dean’s lips. 

“Can I kiss you?” Castiel asked suddenly. Dean stared at him. Castiel never actually asked for his permission before, but he couldn’t deny how much he wanted it. Dean gave him a single nod and closed his eyes. Castiel took Dean's face in both hands and pulled him towards his mouth. Lips parting to take Dean’s tongue inside it when he leaned into the touch. Castiel finally released him, eyes shining. “Dean - do you... could you, ever feel something for me?” Dean hesitated, but the penetrating intensity of those blue eyes demanded a response. 

“I don’t really know if I should answer that, sir.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” Castiel sighed. Dean couldn’t look him in the eyes until Castiel dared to touch the side of his cheek and tilt his face upwards. “It’s alright, Dean. You don’t have to say anything, and for the hundredth time, stop calling me sir. I like it much better when you don’t.” 

“I’ll try. Cas.” Dean added, with a gentle smile. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to try and forget my place when I’m so used to being forced to remember it.” 

“I know it doesn’t seem enough after what I did to you when we met.” Dean was surprised how ashamed Castiel looked at the mention of that first brutal violation he had tried very hard to forget. 

“I forgave you for that as soon as it was over. You were not yourself, sir. That wasn’t you… not really.” 

Castiel felt the sting of fresh tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes. He had done nothing to deserve such complete absolution for all the terrible things he'd done, but Dean gave it to him anyway. He suddenly felt very small. Dean seemed to have more goodness in his heart than anyone Castiel had ever known. He stretched out on his back in the sunshine, propping his head on one hand while he studied every faultless curve of Dean’s perfect face. 

“See, you know what you’ve done now, don’t you?” 

“What have I done?” Dean asked in alarm. 

“Well.” Castiel murmured quietly. “Now I know I’m in love with you.” Castiel didn’t miss the subtle wash of colour that swept across Dean’s cheeks. Making a small puff of air when he looked away. “Why does that bother you so much?" Dean just shook his head, still gazing out across the rows of swaying corn where they moved in the gentle breeze. Such devotion was almost suffocating. Even though Castiel spoke from his heart, Dean knew it wasn’t really his decision to make. 

“Because I can’t have you... and now I don’t think I can make it without you.” 

They fell silent again. Dean was staring at the ground between his feet when Castiel suddenly reached out, blindly grabbing for his hand. 

“Let’s just run away.” Castiel said impulsively, the thought of having to go back to the house before the sun started to set was unbearable. Dean still wasn't sure how far he dared to return Castiel’s affections. Thinking it best not to say anything at all. One day soon his master would realize Dean didn’t deserve him. Playing constantly in the back of his mind. Many years of neglect and abuse leaving him so damaged, Dean found it difficult to accept Castiel liked him just the way he was. “I mean it, Dean. Let’s just go - go away and find a little cabin somewhere, so we can be together.” 

“It’s a nice dream, an’ all, sir, but we both know that’s all it is. A dream.” Dean’s voice trailed off into a whisper. Castiel fiddled nervously with the trim of his jacket. “You wouldn’t survive a life like mine. 'Sides which, I need to see my brother again and I can’t do it on my own.” 

“You don’t have to.” Castiel promised. “I will help you, but I don’t know how much longer I can hide the way I feel about you. Michael already suspects enough to want me to marry some girl I’ve never met.” Dean was watching the graceful movement of Castiel’s fingers while he stroked them possessively over the back of each hand. “I just don’t want to be here anymore. My brother makes me feel like I’m already dead. Deciding my life, telling me who I should love.” Castiel added quietly. Dean’s eyes flicked up with uncertainty. That word made him want to hold on and never let go. Castiel was his salvation. Dean lay down on his side, finding it too hard to rest on his back when the pain still made his skin feel tender. Castiel was getting worried about the swollen lines. They had developed so quickly. Castiel encouraged Dean to remove his shirt and turn his back to the early summer sun. Easing Dean down until he was lying on his stomach, so he could examine the pale lines of silvery scars forming a pattern across his back. Castiel pushed himself up, shuffling over a bit until he was able to slip one leg over the back of Dean’s thighs so he was straddling him from behind. He seemed fascinated by the deep lines. “Do you think these will ever fade?” Castiel asked, absently tracing his finger along each one with reverence like it was something unique. Each one a testament to every strike Dean had borne. He held his head up and took every single one, all for Sam. Castiel imagined Dean would have given up a long time ago if he hadn’t been so desperate to save him. “Almost like a map of your life.” Castiel mused thoughtfully, finally pulling his hand away. 

“Huh.” Dean grunted, heat of the afternoon making him sleepy. “S’pose it is.” 

“What’s the matter?” Castiel longed to understand why Dean was still so reluctant to let his master care for him. 

“It isn’t real.” Dean quickly sat up to stare across the fields. The grounds of the estate stretched out as far as the eye could see. A silent reminder of everything he would never have. 

“It is for me.” 

Dean was suddenly reaching out with desperation. Knocking Castiel onto his back with the force of the kiss he pushed against his mouth. Castiel tried to stop Dean while he still had enough restraint not to take him again right there in the blossoming heat. Watch that beautiful boy sweat with every pounding stroke while he was pinned beneath him. 

“Show me.” Dean whispered against his lips. 

“Dean, I want to make love to you, I do. But I don’t want to hurt you anymore.” Castiel paused for a moment to pull his mouth away. “It does hurt, doesn’t it?” He was biting into his lip and Dean thought there was probably much more to that question than passing curiosity. He nodded, just once. “I’ve never done that before.” Castiel added quietly. Dean wasn’t sure if it was a statement or an invitation. He got taken like that so many times, but never been the one to fill another man and make love to him. Dean had no doubt he would only disappoint, but he pushed past the fear and slowly stroked the inside of Castiel’s thighs. His knees fell apart when Dean climbed in between his legs. Covering Castiel with his body while they kissed again. 

Castiel let Dean drape both arms around him, distracted by the soft flush spreading across his shoulders. It might have been where the sun kissed his skin from an afternoon spent lying in the field, but Castiel wanted to hope it was something more. They knew they would have to go back to the house before dark, but soon lost track of time while they lay there in each other’s arms. Blissfully unaware of everything that developed during their absence. Lucifer’s slaves had been so afraid of recriminations for holding back what they witnessed in Castiel’s rooms, they had gone to him and told their master everything. 

Dean still felt shaky and almost too warm, but the experience in the cornfield filled him with a depth of contentment he never believed possible. Everything Castiel said gave him some small hope that maybe there was a way they could stay together in spite of everyone who wanted to pull them apart. They ran all the way back to the estate hand in hand, but their happiness was soon cut short when they turned on to the main avenue. Michael and Lucifer were waiting for them at the gate.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean frantically pulled away when he realized they were caught. Something about the way Michael was smirking at him while they stood motionless at the end of the path made defiance well up inside Castiel. He reached for Dean’s hand again and held him fast. Dean made a strangled gasp in his throat. Expecting the wrath of both men to rain down on them with a fury. He felt his knees give a little when they started to approach. Dean tried to take a step back, but Castiel had his fingers wrapped around Dean’s in such a tight grip he was forced to stay close to his master’s side. He just bowed his head, staring at the ground instead with the only subservient gesture he had left.

“No, Dean.” Castiel said quietly, standing firm when Lucifer marched up to them. Stopping a few feet in front of where they were standing, eyes hard and dark. If he noticed their hands were woven together, he didn’t bother to mention it. “I’m not going to let them try and separate us anymore.” Castiel added in a whisper. It sounded a lot braver than he felt, but Castiel was so tired of having to fight the way he felt about Dean. Prepared to leave the estate forever if it would somehow help keep them together. Lucifer must have sensed it, knowing exile was no longer a threat that would bend Castiel to his will. He had to think of something else to make Castiel change his mind and spare their family the shame of what he was. Lucifer was watching Dean closely when a wicked idea crept into his thoughts. Castiel obviously cared for this slave boy, and that would be his weakness. Michael walked up behind his brother, a look of disgust making his mouth melt into a sneer.

“Castiel, you deliberately disobeyed me. That alone would be enough for me to suggest Lucifer disinherits you but now I see my suspicions were right all along, I will have to insist.” He said, eyes searching out Lucifer for support.

“I don’t care about any of this.” Castiel replied, waving a shaky hand around to illustrate how little wealth and power meant to him now. “I love him.” Castiel blurted out, squeezing Dean’s hand. The silence that followed felt like an eternity. Dean’s eyes were wide with fear. That admission was as much of a surprise to him as to anybody else. Dean knew he might have secured a place in Castiel’s affections, but never expected him to say something like that and it changed everything.

“Love?” Michael spat. Bitterness in his voice a cruel mockery of the fading warmth of late afternoon. Tension hung in the space between them. “What do you know about love?” He added coldly, answering for him before Castiel had chance to open his mouth again. “Nothing, Castiel. You know nothing, so don’t tempt me to have that boy beaten and hogtied just to prove a point.” The threat alone was enough to make Castiel tell Michael exactly what he had wanted to say for days.

“I know enough to understand everything you have done here is wrong. It’s wrong, Michael and one day you will have to answer for it. In this life, or the next.” He added quietly. “I won’t let you touch him again.” Castiel set his lips in a line of determination. Lucifer suddenly put his arm in front of Michael to stop him getting any closer. Castiel had made his point and Lucifer didn’t want the conversation to dissolve into a full-scale public spectacle. Yet another incentive for the other slaves to stand up to their masters. Suspecting the Winchester boy wouldn't be quite so eager to voice his feelings for Castiel, if indeed he had any. Dean was silent while he stood rigid by Castiel’s side. Lucifer doubted he would ever say anything at all.

“No.” Lucifer commanded. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Take the boy back to the house, he can wait there until I decide what to do with him. I wish to speak with Castiel.”

“Lucifer?” Michael gasped in dismay. “What’s wrong with you? Surely, you’re not going to allow this - this _blasphemy_ to continue?” There was no other word he could come up with to make them understand how much he despised their attraction to each other.

“Enough.” Lucifer snapped, giving Michael a stare that showed he wouldn't be argued with. Michael did as he was told, but Castiel could see hatred for Dean burning through his eyes before he sighed dramatically and walked away without another word. Lucifer nodded his head back towards the house, and the three of them headed back up the path in silence. Dean was almost stumbling forward with every step. Castiel could feel him lean heavily against his side. Dean hadn’t been himself since being brought back from the whipping post, and Castiel sensed the heat smouldering through his skin when they lay together in the cornfield.

“Are you alright?” Castiel whispered quietly, hardly daring to raise his head to see if Lucifer was still watching them. Dean opened his mouth to reply but an overwhelming wave of nausea forced him on to his knees and he vomited all over the path. His back was heaving violently when he emptied his stomach again. Castiel dropped down beside him in the dirt, gently rubbing his hand down Dean’s spine to comfort him. His own stomach lurching when he realized the last purge was tainted with dark spots of blood. In desperation, Castiel called Lucifer back to help him.

“What’s the matter with him?” He asked, walking back a few paces and staring down at them both like Dean’s sickness was little more than a minor inconvenience.

“I don’t know.” Castiel stammered. “I think he’s been getting worse since - ” He stopped, looking up at his brother with pleading eyes. He wanted to say Dean hadn’t been right since he flogged him, but couldn’t bring himself to say it. No matter how much he had angered Lucifer that day, Castiel didn’t really believe he was that much of a dick he would just leave Dean in the middle of the path when he was so ill. Lucifer sighed, before taking a quick glance over his shoulder. Castiel wondered resentfully if he was silently judging how many of the other workers were watching them. Lucifer bent down, physically hauling Dean up by his shoulders. Propping the boy between himself and Castiel so they could take the weight of his body while they dragged him up to the house. Castiel insisted he wanted to carry Dean upstairs, but Lucifer signalled to a couple of the men tending the front lawn to help get Dean up to Castiel’s rooms so he could lie down. Lucifer ordered the servants to put him on the floor, but Castiel pushed past him and gestured to his bed instead. One of the men looked searchingly at their master for approval. Lucifer shared a strange look with his brother before giving a reluctant nod. Dean was carried over to the four-poster and deposited roughly on top of it.

Dean was soon asking for water again, his voice coarse and dry. Castiel fetched him a little glass without hesitation and lifted up Dean’s head so he could rest the edge on his bottom lip. Lucifer didn’t miss the caring way Castiel helped Dean to take a small sip before pushing the hair from his face when his head dropped back on the pillow. Dean wrapped his fingers around Castiel’s arm as a silent thank you before closing his eyes again. Lucifer touched Castiel’s shoulder, gently pulling him away while Dean fell back into a restless sleep.

“Come with me, we need to talk.” Lucifer dismissed the rest of the servants and the two of them headed back downstairs. Lucifer closed the doors behind them as the last one hurried away. Leaving them to speak in private. Castiel knew what was coming. It made his heart pound in his chest. Lucifer moved over to the liquor cabinet and poured them both a generous shot of rye. He handed one to Castiel, but he shook his head. Lucifer just shrugged and downed his own drink in one mouthful. They talked for a long time. Castiel felt sicker with everything that came out his brother’s mouth. Lucifer wanted to make a deal. The specifics washed over Castiel’s thoughts in meaningless streams of spite. He was obviously never forgiven for making Lucifer look powerless to gain control over his own estate after the last marriage he arranged for his brother ended in disaster. In Lucifer’s eyes, Castiel had no other option than to try and redeem himself by showing him this Winchester lad was just a distraction who would easily be forgotten when Castiel started a family of his own. Lucifer wouldn’t let it happen again. He made his offer, stretching out one hand to shake on it. “If you do this, and bring honour back to our family.” Lucifer said thoughtfully. He knew he only had one card left and he played it masterfully. “I will let the boy go, Castiel. I will set him free.”

Castiel looked up slowly. Searching his brother’s face for some hint of emotion, but the light had left his eyes many years ago. Castiel couldn’t speak. Lucifer believed such a generous proposal would put an end to Castiel’s desire for Dean Winchester, carrying on with the pretense he would be given enough time to think about it. Fairly certain Castiel’s affection for the boy would be enough to sway his decision. His brother would have to agree to go through with the wedding in exchange for Dean’s freedom. If a young boy like that was suddenly given the chance to be a free man after years of servitude, he would probably leave in a heartbeat. Then Castiel’s shameful temptation would be gone forever. It might break him for a day or two, but Lucifer was deluded enough to think it was a fair deal. Trying to convince Castiel he was being more than reasonable under the circumstances.

It was an impossible choice. To have Dean there with him and risk him being harmed again, or to grant him his freedom and lose him forever. Castiel had no idea what to say. Lucifer patted him condescendingly on the arm and told him he expected an answer by sunset. Castiel didn’t see the smug smile of satisfaction spreading across his mouth when he left.

Castiel spent the rest of the evening sitting by the bedside and just watching Dean while he slept, feeling tortured every time he moaned in pain. Dean stirred restlessly in the bed. Castiel longed to tell the boy how much he loved him. Dean’s body was shivering uncontrollably every time another rush of poison flooded inside him, still burning up. Sweat was pouring from him. He never fully recovered from the disease that ravaged him almost two summers before. His immune system now struggling to fight off this new threat. His wounds were deeply infected, but no one knew how bad it was. Castiel refused to leave his side. Dean looked so helpless, it didn’t take Castiel long to make a fateful decision for both of them.

 

“As you wish, Castiel.” Lucifer said slowly, each syllable rolling off his tongue with cruel intent when Castiel finished speaking. He went to find Lucifer again, telling his brother he would rather spend the night in the slave quarters than have to leave Dean alone. As soon as the words passed his lips, Castiel knew he had made a terrible mistake. “I will arrange for you and the boy to be escorted down to the camp. I will be here, if you change your mind.” Lucifer nodded once before leaving Castiel standing in the middle of the parlour with his mouth open.

Dean was conscious enough to understand he was being taken somewhere. Still too weak to walk, so he had to be practically carried down the path. The familiar veil of misery descended as they approached. Castiel instinctively covered his mouth when a putrid stench filtered out behind the main door. Out of habit more than anything else. Trying hard to hide his revulsion at the sight that met his eyes when he scanned the dark corners. He heard Dean groan softly at his side, so Castiel held a breath while he helped him navigate the floor. Stepping over some of the other men littered at their feet. Castiel ignored each biting comment and every subtle look of distaste when they passed by. Flinching inside when he heard someone mutter something about _how the mighty had fallen _. Castiel did his best to pretend he was oblivious to the horror of his new surroundings. The room was so crowded, they found it difficult to find a space where they could sit down at least. Even in his weakened state, it made Dean ashamed. Castiel was so much better than being forced to endure something so unpleasant just for loving him. Guilt rose up inside him until he felt horribly sick again.__

Castiel wasn’t sure Dean could even sense his presence at all. Cradling him in his lap while he stroked calming touches through his hair. They were forced to crawl into a tiny space in one corner. The other slaves called Dean names before, but now they actively shunned him as well and it broke Castiel’s heart. _He_ was the one responsible for everything Dean was made to suffer since his arrival at the camp. The sting of remorse still haunted him, but Castiel would never be sorry he had fallen in love with Dean. The boy who gave hope back to him. Hope there was something better out there, something worth holding on to. Castiel closed his eyes, gently resting his head against Dean’s while he reached for his hand. There was no response. His fingers felt lifeless and cold.

The smell got worse when the evening drew in, and Castiel could hear the scuttle of rats clawing at decaying timber. He stared around the room in alarm, eyes now darting into every dim recess for any signs of movement in the straw. He looked ridiculously out of place in such terrible surroundings, gold trim of his jacket sparkling in the soft glow of a single oil lamp that hung from the rafters. Castiel wondered how much longer he would be able to stay there when he could easily have gone back up to the house for a warm bath and a hot meal. He would have happily given any one of his limbs for either of those right now, but he didn’t want to abandon Dean. The poor boy didn’t even seem fully aware of anything going on around him. Castiel wondered what Dean really expected when he got invited up to his rooms for the first time. You probably couldn’t miss what you never had, but Dean had been given the chance at a better life and now it had been brutally taken away again. Sometimes Castiel wished he never asked him at all. It might have been hard, but neither of them ever knew before how it felt to love someone you could never have. Castiel finally fell asleep in the early hours with Dean’s head resting in his lap.

 

After two days, Dean’s fever finally broke and he managed a few hesitant sips of stagnant water and a mouthful of dry bread. The infection was getting worse, respite just a cruel illusion. Castiel couldn’t stand it anymore. Dean might die if he stayed in that terrible place for much longer. He knew he had to get him out of there, whatever the cost. Castiel left his boy asleep in the corner and went back up to the house to tell Lucifer he would agree to anything he wanted if he promised to release Dean from his service. At least he would have a fighting chance of survival.

Castiel returned to see Dean was now awake and slumped up by the back wall. Dean knew at once something was terribly wrong. Castiel looked desperately sad, twisting his fingers together while he made his way back to him. He reached for Dean's hand when he dropped to his knees in silent apology.

“Dean.” Castiel whispered, voice breaking. “I know you probably don’t understand this, but I just can't let you suffer anymore, not for me. I have to do something I really don’t want to but I need you to trust me.” Dean felt something twist inside him. He didn’t have to ask what Castiel agreed to. He already guessed and it felt like he was dying. He was still very weak, but he managed to put every last shred of passion into his reply.

“You said you would rather die.” Dean gasped, trying to force out the words. He suddenly felt so betrayed, Dean couldn’t hide the tremble in his voice. “But you promised.” Dry sobs were catching in his throat. “You promised, Cas. You said you wouldn’t leave me.”

“God, I don’t want to. I love you, Dean.” Castiel could feel the tears welling up so he turned his face away so the man he adored wouldn’t be able to see his heart breaking. “I can’t explain it all right now, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Dean, but one day you’ll realize it has to be this way, and it’s all for you. It will always be for you.” Castiel pressed a tender kiss to Dean’s temple and inhaled him one last time. Scrambling to his feet before he changed his mind. He ran to the door without looking back.

Dean called out to him again, but the sound of his master’s boots was already fading into the distance as he hurried from the slave camp. The single drops of water that spilled down Castiel’s cheeks were now thick streams of tears that coated both of his eyes. The world looked so blurry he had to keep blinking just so he could find his way back up to the house. Lucifer hadn’t even seemed surprised to see him. The words still echoed in his head.

_“I knew you’d come. When you are married, I will set the boy free. You need not concern yourself with the details, I will arrange everything. You should rest now.”_

Castiel thought he saw a glimmer of affection in those soulless eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. It wasn’t love. Just the satisfaction of knowing he got what he wanted. Castiel had said goodbye to Dean and all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and wish the pain away. He went straight up to his rooms and cried until he fell asleep.

Two weeks before the wedding, Castiel made a last desperate attempt to try and send word to his brother, Gabriel. Somewhere in his heart he believed he might help him if he could, but none of them had seen him for almost a year. He always detested the idea of slavery and had never got on well with Michael. Everyone thought he must have followed their father and gone to fight, but there was no one else who would even be willing to try and save Castiel a lifetime of pain in a loveless marriage. There was even a small hope he might somehow take Dean and hide him away. Castiel had become so despondent without Dean, he wasn’t sure he even cared about anything anymore. He searched out the last address they had for him and wrote a long letter telling Gabriel everything. Discreetly passing it to one of the servants and begging him to take it to the mail station in the next town over. He swore him to secrecy and paid him enough to ensure his silence. If Gabriel failed him, he would have to go through with the marriage to make sure his boy would finally be free from persecution.

He loved Dean enough to save him.

 

The days that followed were heart-breaking while Lucifer made preparations for the wedding. Castiel spent many lonely hours gazing out his window, just watching and waiting. It took everything he had to stop himself from going back to the camp. One look at Dean would weaken his resolve to go through with it, but it tore him apart. Castiel knew how sick Dean was, the look of disappointed hurt in those green eyes when he left haunting every nightmare. He had to stay strong. He already made the decision a life of misery was nothing compared to the value of Dean recovering and being a free man, but Castiel didn’t know Dean had just given up. He didn’t want to get better anymore, willingly resigning himself to total isolation since Castiel left him. Most of that had been without a single bite of food passing his lips. Dean knew now he loved his master and believed he had lost him forever. Death would be a welcome release from the pain of having to live the rest of his life without Castiel.

Castiel wasn’t sure he would ever see Dean again, or even if he could survive another night. It was just over a week until his wedding but Castiel never felt so lost and so alone. He stood on the terrace, glancing over the oppressive calm of the estate he now hated with all his heart. He let out a weary sigh of longing, holding on to the fragile hope Gabriel might return. Explaining everything he could in the letter. Castiel had a strange feeling Lucifer might go back on his word, and left both of their lives in Gabriel’s hands. Castiel willed each dawn to come with some news. Even if he was married to someone else, at least Dean would be free. Castiel took some solace in that, but it was bittersweet.

It was almost midnight when a dark shape silently dismounted before creeping through the thick cover of the trees and down the side of the fence penning in the slave quarters. Some of the others were so worried Dean was going to pass the sickness to everyone, they refused to let him sleep among them so he dragged his body to the door on his hands and knees and propped himself up against the entrance. He couldn’t have moved much more if he’d wanted to, but it wasn’t so bad. The cool night breeze smelled fresh and wholesome compared to the sleeping area, and it helped take the edge off the relentless fire that still felt like it was going to consume him from the inside out.

Dean eventually managed to crawl over to the grass outside, carefully turning onto his back so he could look up at the stars above him. Making him hopelessly sad to think he would never get the chance to keep his promise to Castiel and share something so beautiful with him. Dean stared up at them until his eyes hurt. He suddenly heard a quiet whisper at his side.

“Mr. Winchester?”

Dean blinked through a haze of delirium. Sepsis continued to rage through his blood. No one had ever called him that, and just for a second he thought he might have even imagined it. Maybe he was so close to death some divine spirit had finally come to take him.

“Are you an angel?” Dean managed at last. The blur gradually dissolved back into focus when two golden eyes came slowly into view and stared down at him. Dean felt someone take his hand and help him struggle to his feet, the only light from the stars shining on his cheeks and defining all the pain that lined his face.

“No.” There was a soft laugh. “My name is Gabriel. Come on, Dean. I’m going to save you.” He said gently. Dean felt the warmth of the other man’s body comfort him while he held him up against his side. Dean leaned into the shelter of his touch. “Then we’re going to save Castiel.”


	9. Chapter 9

Dean found it hard to hold himself up, but soon raised enough strength to move forward when this unexpected stranger used the name of his master. The man who now consumed every waking thought. A man he never expected to fall in love with. Dean hardened his heart a long time ago. The tragic death of his mother and the pain of those first brutal violations was bad enough, but Sam being taken from him was almost more than he could bear. Before he met Castiel, it was the only thing that kept him fighting to stay alive. Dean looked up, blinking wide in the darkness. There was something hauntingly familiar about the way those eyes kept staring at him like they were studying every contour of his face. He didn't feel scared. Somehow he knew this man was his salvation.

Gabriel made a quick detour, stopping to leave something at the gatehouse before they stumbled on. Dean wasn’t entirely sure the whole hazy experience wasn’t some sort of hallucination, fuelled by the poison in his blood and the crushing despair that gripped at him when Castiel left him alone and returned to the house. The feeling of abandonment and betrayal still weighed heavy on his heart, almost overpowering the sweet drench of relief Dean felt when the fresh air buffeted his face. He was finally free of the slave quarters.

Gabriel wrapped one arm around Dean’s waist while he steered him away from the borders and the lamp light that lined the main road. He retrieved his horse, and it walked stealthily by his side like it somehow knew they had to move as quietly as they could. Gabriel sensed Dean was close to collapse, so he stopped at the edge of the path and reached out one hand to steady the animal by the bridle, encouraging Dean to try and clamber onto its back. He was painfully weak and still disoriented, so Gabriel had to physically push him up higher with a determined shove against his ass. He silently led the horse away while Dean let oblivion take him again. Eyes shuttering closed while he was jostled up and down, legs dangling as they moved. Hard edge of the leather saddle digging into his stomach.

 

Castiel was inconsolable. He knew in his heart he left Dean there to save him, but breaking a promise to someone he loved so completely burned into his conscience like a searing flame. He had no idea Gabriel had even returned, let alone managed to smuggle Dean away from the camp in the middle of the night and was already leading him away down the avenue of trees and to safety. The black shadows hid them both from view while the lights slowly went out one by one as night settled over the estate. Castiel didn’t know his bondslave was gone, heart filled with so many emotions he couldn’t manage to sleep at all. The morning was a long way off and he had many hours of regret and loneliness still before him.

 

Gabriel finally reigned in his horse when they reached the edge of the county line. Dean’s eyes were still closed, not really understanding what was happening. The wind blustered against him while they fled and his hair was swept in all directions. Lulled by the gentle tread of the horse where he was gracelessly draped over its back.

 

Castiel locked himself in his rooms and refused everything Michael sent up for him. Not only out of principle, but because he had no desire to eat a morsel of food and couldn’t even be bothered to get out of bed or talk to anyone at all. He filled many hours just staring out the open window, or curled up on his bed with his face buried in his hands. He wept empty tears into his pillow, trying desperately to forget about what he lost and the wedding plans Michael seemed determined to torture him with. Castiel had no choice. Dean would never be free until Castiel submitted to the hateful demands of his brother. There was nothing he could do to save him except go through with the marriage and condemn himself to a living death. He accepted his fate, but it didn’t mean he had to like it or pretend to play along with his brother’s twisted mind games.

Michael called Castiel’s name through the door when the morning finally came, with an unmistakable hint of frustration he clearly tried to hide. Castiel closed his eyes and turned over onto his side. He didn’t want to see anybody except Dean, and he sacrificed that privilege to try and save him. Michael continued to call for Castiel to let him in so they could discuss his future. It really wasn’t much of an incentive, and Castiel ignored him completely while Michael waited impatiently behind the door. Nothing really mattered anymore. He had no future without Dean. Castiel would have to give up his own freedom so Dean could regain his. He had so many regrets it made his head hurt.

Castiel couldn’t think about anything but Dean. He knew how sick he was, hoping with everything he had Dean somehow understood why it had to be this way. Michael eventually gave up and walked away. Castiel made no attempt to get out of bed for most of the morning until he heard the sound of something being slipped underneath his door. He sat up and blinked mindlessly at the thin sliver of paper. Something about it made him throw back the covers and go pick it up. There was nothing written on the front except his name, and it was sealed with wax across the fold on the other side. He opened it with trembling fingers, hope filling his heart again when he recognized the script at once. It was from Gabriel. One of the more loyal servants who remembered him with fondness had been entrusted with it the night before. He secretly passed it under the door when Michael had taken a walk down to the vineyard. Castiel’s heart thumped while he read each line, cherishing every word outlining his brother’s plans and where he could find Dean. It finished with a warning to be careful, and to wait until nightfall to leave. Gabriel trusted Michael even less than Castiel did, and had no doubt he would have him followed if he suspected anything.

Castiel eventually came out of his rooms to see if anyone realized Dean was gone. As soon as he saw the look in his brother’s eyes, he knew something was dreadfully wrong. Castiel was apparently not the only one to receive a letter that morning.

“What’s the matter?” Castiel gasped fearfully, when he saw how quickly all the colour drained from Michael’s face. “What’s that?” Castiel could feel his heart start to pound again. A hundred different thoughts stormed through his mind when Michael held out the piece of paper he was clutching. Castiel had to unfold it several times before he could read anything at all. His hand was shaking while he pulled out the corners. He had no idea what it was, but knew it was probably nothing good. Lucifer was standing behind Michael, one hand resting heavily on the mantel to stop his legs from giving way beneath him. Castiel’s first thought was they found out about Dean and the search for Sam, or maybe Gabriel had betrayed him and told them of his plans to save Dean before they could marry Castiel off and put an end to their love affair for good. Castiel scanned the letter. It was from their father. Sending word to Michael they must search him out, with orders for them to join the cause. Lucifer quietly explained the contents of the letter while Castiel looked on in disbelief.

The Confederacy had called for volunteers, and their father requested their presence at Cape Hatteras in the north. No word had come from him since the year before, and the fact he was still alive was enough to take in without the threat of having to fight beside him. Something none of the Novak boys ever expected. Calling them up for active duty drew out an emotion in Michael he had never known before. Fear. The idea either of them might be forced to fight for liberty when they had taken it away from so many others left him cold. Lucifer patted Michael sympathetically on the shoulder before informing Castiel their father wanted one of them to stay and manage the estate in his name. Castiel was the youngest and their father suspected he would never make a soldier. He never really trusted the judgement of his two eldest sons, and no longer had any contact with Gabriel. So much had happened in his absence, and he would have refused to accept the choices Castiel made. Now he wanted his sons to represent the family against the perils of the Union. There could be no doubt the letter was definitely an order, not a request.

The house was unnaturally quiet for the rest of the day. Michael went for a long walk to clear his head, and Lucifer was already making preparations for their departure. He seemed to have found a purpose at last, and nothing would dissuade him from going to join his father. Castiel took the opportunity to read his own letter again, willing the evening to draw in. Then he could go to Gabriel and be reunited with Dean. The hours seemed to drag by while he waited for the sun to set. Despite the shock of the recent news, all Castiel could think about was holding Dean in his arms once more.

 

It was very late by the time Castiel eventually reached the little cottage Gabriel managed to find as a haven for them until Dean was well enough to leave. He could hardly breathe when he first caught sight of the brother he had almost forgotten.

“Where is he? Please, Gabriel. Is he alright?”

“The boy?” Gabriel asked softly, gaze drawn behind him for a moment where Dean was resting inside. He reached out to lay a comforting hand on Castiel’s arm when he drew closer. It didn’t really matter his brother hadn’t offered him a single word in greeting after being apart for so long. Gabriel understood why as soon as he saw the longing there when Castiel peered over his shoulder. Looking down at Dean with adoration where he was lying asleep on the bed. “You love him, Castiel. I see it in your eyes.”

“Yes, Gabriel.” Castiel admitted openly. “I love him very much.”

Gabriel smiled.

“I guessed as much when I read your letter, but now I see just how much he means to you. What did Michael say?” He asked cautiously, but Castiel deliberately ignored the question and answered with his eyes instead. They both knew how ignorant and bigoted their brother was. Castiel quickly changed the subject.

“Do you think you can heal him? Will he recover?”

“I don’t know.” Gabriel answered after a hesitant pause. He should really tell him about the relentless surge of poison ravaging his fragile body, but here was so much hope in Castiel’s eyes, Gabriel couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. “He’s real sick, Castiel. I will do what I can, I swear, but I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.” His voice was hushed, even in the quiet of the room. Daring a glance at Castiel when he walked past him in the doorway. His eyes soon flicked back to Dean. He looked so pale and lifeless, Gabriel wasn’t sure he was even still breathing. Castiel must have seen the care on his brother's face, quickly bending down next to the bed to take Dean’s hand. There was no response. Castiel didn’t know it at the time, but Dean had given up his fight for life well before that moment. The will to survive had forsaken him days ago when the man he loved left him alone and dying. He needed something to hold on to so he would want to get well again. Dean had nothing without Castiel. Even Sam’s face was starting to become a distant memory, dipping in and out of focus in his clouded mind while the fever stormed on. He seemed to be completely unaware Castiel was even there with him.

“I wish he would say something.” Castiel whispered. “I’ve missed him so much.”

“He really needs to sleep. Here, I want you to look at his back.” Gabriel moved closer and carefully lifted up the sheet at one corner. He was staring at the wounds with concern where the deeper marks radiated out across Dean’s skin. Several smaller lines spreading out from the swollen cuts like tiny purple branches. “I think the infection might have already spread into his blood.” Gabriel added. “See here, where the lines are darker? It’s bad, Castiel. I’ve seen this before. A wound that deep just festers until it eventually takes them. If we don’t clean these up and get the poison out of him, he won’t last more than a few days.” Castiel felt his throat close up again. “What happened?”

Castiel couldn’t bear to admit he hurt Dean to try and keep their affection for each other a secret. In the end it only brought them both more pain, and Castiel wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to forgive himself for all the damage his good intentions had done. He loved Dean. He wanted him to get well. The threat of being confined to a lifetime of slavery might now be gone, but Gabriel still needed to keep Dean safe until they could get away. It might give them enough time to save them both from a fate worse than death.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Castiel murmured. Gabriel glanced at him. His brother's face was screwed up with guilt, and the hurt of knowing he had done something so horrible to a man he loved more than life itself. Gabriel was much more perceptive than Castiel ever gave him credit for. He knew there was a lot more behind those words that was still painfully raw. Gabriel knew Michael had a cold chunk of stone where his heart should be when it came to the slave boys, and never liked the physical punishments any more than Castiel had. Part of his decision to leave home was based on his disapproval of the way Michael and Lucifer treated the men in their care. Gabriel didn’t press Castiel to explain. He could guess well enough.

Dean was drifting in and out of consciousness while Castiel sat patiently by his bedside. He still looked deathly pale and the sweat hadn’t even dried on his skin. His hair was drenched with perspiration, carelessly shedding the sheet to try and gain some form of relief from the fever that continued to torment his body. Castiel tried very hard to avert his eyes while Dean lay naked and shivering, despite being so warm he couldn’t stand to be covered at all. Castiel just wanted to hold him. Gabriel had enough sense to leave them alone, soon disappearing outside on the pretense of hunting for a few sticks of dry firewood. Castiel perched himself on the edge of the bed, gathering Dean up in his arms to comfort him. He grunted quietly when he felt soft hands wrap around his waist. Castiel was careful not to rub his fingers against the wounds on his back when he whispered Dean’s name against his skin to try and rouse him.

Gabriel managed to acquire a small tincture made from opium poppies to help with the pain, and Dean’s vision was blurry at first but he would know the soft rumble of that beautiful voice anywhere. It made him prop himself up on his elbows while he blinked the narcotic fog away.

“Cas?” Dean asked sleepily, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. “Is that really you?” Dean was trying to focus on the indistinct swirls of colour at his side. “I don’t know what’s real any more. I thought I heard your voice calling me in the darkness last night, but when I woke up you weren’t there.” His pitiful voice was almost a sob. “I wanted you to be there.”

“Dean, it’s alright.” Castiel soothed. “I’m here now.”

“Why did you leave me?” Dean asked quietly. Castiel felt another wash of regret. Even through the sedative haze, it was the one memory that continued to haunt him.

“I just needed to be sure you would be safe, Dean. I didn’t want to leave you.” Castiel reached down and gripped his hand. “Now you’re away from there, I can tell you the truth. I couldn’t before, I was scared they would use it against you.” Dean didn’t seem to register much of anything Castiel said. His eyes suddenly snapped open.

“Someone saved me.” He gasped, as the memory returned. Castiel smiled, tenderly curling his hand around Dean’s fist where it was suddenly wrapped in the folds of his sleeve.

“Yes, my brother. I asked him to help us, and he has not disappointed me. He will keep you safe here until I can get what we need. When you get well, we can leave together and never come back.”

“But everything you own is there.” Dean mumbled, hardly daring to believe Castiel came back just for him. “It’s your right, Cas. I don’t want you to have to give all that up for me.”

“I don’t care about any of that, Dean. It means nothing if I can’t be with you.” Castiel whispered. He held Dean close and stroked both hands over his back. “The only reason I stayed was so Michael wouldn’t hurt you anymore. I thought I was doing the right thing. I know I promised not to leave you, and I swear I won’t break that again. I messed everything up, please forgive me.” Dean leaned into the tender embrace. Castiel thought he heard him whimper against his chest. Almost like he was a little boy again, desperate for the warm comfort of someone who loved him. Someone who could make everything alright without even trying. Castiel showed Dean what it was like to touch someone without them wanting anything from you in return except the desire to hold you close and feel your heart beating against their own. Dean never had a love like that in his life and now he couldn’t remember anything else.

Castiel wasn’t sure what he should do. Part of him knew he had to go back before the morning came, almost believing he might be able to put some small measure of trust in Lucifer now he decided to leave the plantation in search of their father. He once agreed Castiel could take a boy as his own. Even though that wasn’t really what he meant, he would look unprincipled if he went back on his word. Castiel had seen some hint of unexpected empathy there when he helped to carry Dean back up to the house. The way he glared at Michael when he protested a little too much about Castiel’s desire to be loved by another man. He suspected there was more to that silent exchange than he first imagined. Perhaps Michael had his own dark secrets. Castiel suddenly wondered if his brother had given in to his own needs and done the same to one of the other boys. The vehemence in his voice when he reprimanded Castiel sounded more like guilt. A deep sense of shame he would never admit to. Castiel didn’t care what Michael had done. He was proud to confess his love for Dean Winchester. There was nothing anyone could say that would make him change his mind about who he wanted to share his life with.

The men talked long into the night. Gabriel never told Castiel why he was so desperate to get away. Not willing to hold his little brother completely responsible for some of the shameful things he'd done. Lucifer and Michael knew no better than to follow their father. It turned them into something Gabriel didn’t like. Growing up hating the fact he was forced to watch Castiel sacrifice his independence and the clear conscience he had been born with to become just like them. It now warmed his heart to know his true nature had finally won through. Slavery was wrong and nothing could ever justify it. The two of them were much more alike than either of them ever realized. Gabriel imagined it had taken the power of his unconditional love for Dean Winchester to release Castiel from the murky depths of ignorance.

Castiel knew there was no one else to take over everything his family worked for, but he didn’t want it. The estate would crumble into nothing and grapes would wither on the vines without someone to maintain the land. For some reason that made Castiel feel even more guilty and confused. He knew he had to make a fateful decision. Gabriel reminded him gently that time was a luxury they just didn’t have.

“You have to go back tonight.” Gabriel said suddenly. Castiel was drawn away from the harrowing memories that surfaced once again when he examined Dean’s skin. “I know you don’t want to, but if you stay here you might be followed and that could lead them straight to your boy. I don’t think Michael will be quite so forgiving next time.” It was a terrible thought. Gabriel didn’t even want to think about what might happen to Dean if the sickness didn’t get him first. “They’ll kill him, Castiel.” He added in a whisper. “You know they will. It’s a choice only you can make.” They sat together by the fire while Dean slept again. “You can take over management of the estate and honour our father, or you can have Dean and hope he gets well enough for you to be together. But you can’t have both.” Castiel was staring silently at the hypnotic golden flames as they danced in the grate. He couldn’t hide the fact he was still deeply unhappy. He was torn by indecision, but Gabriel was right.

“I don’t want to leave him again, Gabe.” Castiel shook his head sadly. Gabriel could see he was fighting every instinct to stay. Castiel knew in his heart he had to return to the house before dawn, giving his brother a sorrowful glance while he made a quiet decision in his head. Everything seemed so hopeless when Castiel wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and forced himself to venture back out into the night. Gabriel insisted he should take the horse so he could get back quickly before anyone else was awake. The wedding was only a week away. Castiel had to keep up the pretense for just a little while longer until Dean recovered, or until Lucifer and Michael left for the cape.

Castiel reluctantly slipped one foot through the stirrup to pull his body up into the saddle. Gabriel raised one hand in farewell, and Castiel felt fresh tears fall down his face at the thought of leaving. Holding on to the unspoken promise his brother would keep Dean safe so no one could ever hurt him again. Gabriel stood rigid in the dimly lit doorway, watching the horse gallop away. Finally lost to view with the sound of pounding hooves as it carried Castiel away into the darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

Gabriel took one last glance over his shoulder after his brother vanished behind the line of trees leading back to the main road. He hurried back inside to check on Dean and give him another dose of pain relief. He was still resting and Gabriel didn’t have the heart to disturb him when he looked so peaceful. During the previous night, Gabriel had watched Dean stir with disturbing regularity when he shifted onto his back in his sleep. Losing count of how many times the boy cried out when the swollen marks pressed against the coarse blanket that was all Gabriel had to lie him on. The almost incoherent mumblings Dean released during those dark hours betrayed his deepest thoughts. Gabriel knew those dreams were filled with fractured images of Castiel, and the desperate need to be loved by him. Gabriel hadn’t shared all his concerns with his brother. He saw the love reflected in those blue eyes, but Castiel still had a fateful choice before him. Gabriel didn’t really want to influence his decision, or destroy the hope Dean would get better. It was hard enough for Castiel to return home that night without knowing for certain his slave boy was just as deeply in love with him in return.

Gabriel examined Dean gently before throwing a dry log on the dying fire and settling down at the end of the bed for another sleepless night. Dean’s eyes slowly flickered open when the wood crackled, fire curling up around the sides and consuming it in flame. The warmth was making Gabriel sleepy, and he could feel his eyes sliding closed when he suddenly heard Dean calling for Castiel in the dark. He was struggling to sit up, head turning towards the door like he wanted Castiel to walk right through it.

“Where is he?” Dean asked breathlessly, eyes blinking rapidly in the firelight. He pushed himself up a little more with determination, but he was still very weak. Dean knew what Gabriel was going to say before he even opened his mouth. “He’s gone back.” Dean added in a whisper, closing his eyes again when he turned his face away. It wasn’t a question. Gabriel nodded, even though he knew Dean couldn’t see it.

“I don’t think he wanted to risk Michael finding out he was missing. You're safe for the moment, but if my brothers know what Castiel plans to do, then I fear they will stop at nothing to hunt you down. They think you’ve ruined him.” Dean didn’t say anything in response. That was probably true, but it didn’t hurt any less to hear it. “Hey.” Gabriel said gently, reaching forward to touch Dean’s arm. “I don’t think that.” Dean made a weary attempt to smile, but his heart was aching without Castiel by his side. He felt so sheltered in the warm safety of his arms, and now he had to face another night alone. It seemed too cruel to have that comfort, only for Castiel to take it away again so quickly. “I believe in my heart he will come back for you.” Gabriel added, remembering the look of devotion shining through his brother’s eyes whenever he looked at Dean.

Dean took some solace from that, but words were easy and he knew Gabriel was just trying to make him feel better. There was nothing Dean could do but wait, and now he desperately wanted to get well so they could go away together. Dean knew he wasn’t strong enough yet, but Castiel had given him a reason to fight again. His mind soon drifted to thoughts of Sam. He called Gabriel back from the edge of sleep once more.

“Did my master tell you about my brother?”

“A little.” Gabriel replied slowly, forcing his eyes open while he battled to stay awake. “I think Castiel is determined to help you find him, but I have to warn you, Mr. Winchester - it will not be an easy task. I hate to say it, but boys like that are two a penny down south, and we have almost nothing to go on.” Dean sighed with disappointment, but he hadn’t given up just yet.

 

Castiel wept openly all the way back to the estate. Rush of wind as the horse sprinted through the trees drying the tears on his cheeks before they had chance to fall. He wasn’t just terrified Dean was slowly dying. He might have to go through with the marriage to make sure his bondslave would be safe. Castiel couldn't stand to think about what might happen if Dean didn't recover enough to leave. He could never give that boy up, no matter what happened. All he wanted to do was to hold Dean. Kiss him until he was breathless in his hands, but their fate was far from certain. It was almost dawn by the time he reached the borders of the vineyard, quietly secreting Gabriel’s horse in the stables. He tried so hard to swallow down his emotions before he went back into the house, but everything reminded him of Dean. The lamp in the barn, the early morning noise down at the slave quarters when the men got up for work. The soft satin of his bed when he finally slipped between the sheets, wishing Dean was lying next to him and staring into his eyes while he leaned in to steal a kiss. Castiel sighed, turning onto his side so he could watch the rise of the sun while morning came. Exhaustion finally sent him to sleep.

Nothing could stop Castiel from sneaking away again the next night. He stayed in bed for most of the day, abandoning all pretense he was even vaguely interested in whatever Michael and Lucifer were planning as they mapped out his life for him before they left to join their father. Castiel was painfully aware they expected him to marry and take on the management of the Novak estate in their absence, but Castiel now had no intention of doing either. Michael seemed to have a sense of foreboding that wouldn’t leave him alone. Not quite as keen as Lucifer to abandon the sanctuary of his home and fight for a cause he didn’t really understand.

Castiel was surprised no one noticed his nightly visits to the woods. Lucifer was now completely focused on their mission, and Castiel wondered if Michael had just given up. He looked so pale and drawn lately and unnaturally quiet. Spending most of the time locked in his rooms with a bottle of homemade rye. As much as Castiel despised the war, it gave Lucifer and Michael something else to think about and he sometimes felt guilty for being so grateful for it. As soon as the cover of evening came again, Castiel retrieved Gabriel’s horse from the stable. Soon riding so fast, he could hardly take in the shape of the trees that lined the path back to Dean. Castiel desperately needed to know he had made the right choice in his heart, and Dean would want to be with him when he recovered. They could finally escape the confining bonds that had imprisoned them both in separate lives neither of them ever wanted. Castiel didn’t care about the estate, he didn’t want power or status. He wanted Dean. That would always be enough for him, no longer having any doubt he was going to do the right thing and give them both a chance at happiness.

 

Gabriel was busy chopping up firewood with a hand axe when the horse cantered back up the lane. He watched in silence as the familiar shape of his brother’s silhouette came into view. Gabriel couldn’t deny Castiel’s repeated visits to their secluded refuge were a terrible risk, but suspected Dean was too great a temptation to resist.

“Castiel.” Gabriel greeted him in surprise, straightening up to set the hatchet against the wall. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.” He wiped the sweat from his face with the back of one hand. Castiel dismounted and patted the horse in thanks for his swift deliverance. Turning to his brother with a soft smile. There was never really any choice to be made. Dean had captured his heart from the moment they met, and nothing was worth giving him up. Castiel gently placed one hand on Gabriel’s arm. 

“You already knew my answer.”

Dean seemed much better that evening. With Gabriel’s help, they managed to keep the wounds clean and encourage the skin to heal. The darker lines so evident the day before had started to fade, and the sickness in his stomach passed enough for him to try a bite of supper. Gabriel hadn’t really been sure the boy would manage to recover at all but peace, rest, and the knowledge his true love had returned for him were all powerful incentives to get well again. Dean was still lying in front of the fire with his eyes closed, but he wasn’t asleep. The hushed conversation was soon drawn back to what they should do for the best. Castiel was adamant he had to find Sam before they fled for good.

“Maybe I can do something.” Gabriel said suddenly. Castiel jerked his head up.

“Would you?”

Gabriel had already helped them so much it didn’t seem right to ask for anything else, but he just waved his hand dismissively instead of replying. Castiel gratefully pulled out the letter he already prepared. He always kept it inside his jacket in case Michael found it, meaning to send out copies as soon as he could get free of the house in daylight, but so much had happened and now time was something they just didn’t have. Castiel unfurled it on his knee and allowed Gabriel to read through it. Dean had signed it with a simple form of his name after his master taught him how to copy the shapes, but the rest of it was in Castiel’s hand. He left Gabriel to study it while he went outside to fetch another draught of water from the well. Gabriel was deep in thought when a small voice cut through the silence.

“Do you really think you could try to find him?” Dean was looking up hopefully, no longer even pretending to be asleep. To save his brother as well would be everything he wanted and his happiness would be complete. “I’ve missed him so much. I don’t want to go anywhere without Sam, but I know we can’t stay here forever. Master Castiel has done so much for me already, I can’t ask him for more.”

Gabriel smiled, light from the embers making his eyes sparkle when Dean still referred to Castiel like that. They were obviously in love and hoping to start a new life together, but Gabriel supposed a lifetime of subservience had left its mark.

“If you want my opinion, I have a feeling Master Castiel would do anything you asked of him.”  


“I would follow him anywhere.” Dean murmured, with a blush. “I love him, sir.” Gabriel answered with a simple touch of his hand on Dean’s shoulder when they heard Castiel come back inside.

Gabriel sensed Castiel wanted to be alone with Dean. They had a lot of making up to do and he had no desire to witness that, so he pulled on his jacket and exchanged a few words with his brother before leaving the rest of the supper in the hearth. He headed outside to ready his horse with Castiel’s letter stuffed deep inside his pocket. It included a brief description of Sam, and some personal details that might help Gabriel to locate him. He left a few minutes later with the promise he would do his best to be back by midnight. Castiel thought it sounded suspiciously like a subtle warning he didn’t want to come back and find them in bed together. He sat down next to Dean and picked up the wooden bowl full of soup Gabriel left for him. Castiel was so happy Dean had found his appetite again, dipping in the ladle and blowing across the top of it to cool it down before teasing Dean’s mouth open to let the warm broth flood over his tongue. Castiel fed Dean the entire meal with limitless patience while they stared longingly at each other over the edge with every single mouthful.

The night was beautifully clear and Dean really wanted to step outside again. The air in the small cottage was stale and the space confining, and he was desperate to stretch his legs. Castiel helped him up and they wandered outside arm in arm to look at the stars when they began to twinkle in the dusk. Dean always seemed to marvel at the simple things around him. Castiel was watching the boy closely while he breathed in a huge lung full of fresh air before propping himself against Castiel’s side.

“I’ve spent so much of my life without appreciating the things that really matter.” Castiel whispered, when he saw how brightly Dean’s eyes were starting to shine again. There was a healthy glow to his skin. A testament to the tenderness of Gabriel’s care.

“If you see it now, that’s all that matters.” Dean muttered thoughtfully. Castiel could hardly speak over the emotion that rose up and stole his voice. Dean was still a little unsteady, so Castiel slipped his arm around his waist. Encouraging Dean to lean against him while he led him further into the garden to take advantage of the warm evening and fresh summer breeze.

“You never cease to amaze me, Dean Winchester.” Castiel said at last. Dean just huffed a modest laugh and pulled a face. “I mean it, Dean. From the moment you helped me to look up at the stars instead of staring at the ground, since the taste of that first kiss that was given willingly instead of me having to take it… everything, Dean.” Castiel added, turning Dean around to settle both hands around the boy’s waist. “Everything about you has made me a better man, and I intend to repay that kindness a hundred fold.”

“You don’t owe me anything, sir.”

“Castiel.”

“Cas. My Cas.” Dean dared a shy grin when his master leaned in even more, tilting his head towards the line of shadows at the end of the garden.

“Always.” Castiel agreed, scrunching up his nose in delight. “Come on, Dean. You’re doing so well, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see how much you’ve improved. Gabriel’s worked wonders, I don’t know how I can ever thank him.” Castiel desperately needed a distraction. Dean was completely naked when he got out of bed, the flush in Castiel's cheeks not just from the sudden change in temperature when they moved from the fireside and out into the evening air. He insisted Dean should slip on a pair of under-breeches to cover his modesty, but he was still warm, and refused Castiel’s request to cover the top half of his body as well. Castiel didn’t argue, chastising himself in his head for having such lustful thoughts about the boy when he had only recently started to recover from such a terrible infection.

“He sure has.” Dean smiled, letting Castiel hold him close while they strolled down to the orchard at the bottom of the path. No one had lived in the cottage for some time, and the whole area was now overgrown and shaded by trees that were heavy with unpicked fruit. “He’s looked after me real well, sir, but you’re the one who gave me a reason to come back from the darkness.”

“I did?” Castiel turned to study the lines of that beautiful face that filled every one of his dreams. “Well, you’re a free man now, Dean. Not a possession. You don’t belong to me anymore.” Castiel added, with a smile. No words could explain how good that felt.

“Yes, I do.” Dean answered softly. “You know you have my heart, Cas. I wanted to come back for you. I remember hearing your voice and it made me so happy. It’s all kind of blurry now, but I know you came back for me and it gave me hope again. Everything was so dark.” Dean heard Castiel inhale a sharp breath. He could so easily have lost him.  


“I’m so sorry I hurt you, my love. None of this would have happened if I stood up to my brothers. I was so weak.” Castiel said sadly, remembering how much influence Michael had on him then. He would have done anything to protect their secret, but Castiel was stronger now and he wasn’t going to risk letting go of Dean again.

“You did what you had to, I understand - and the wedding?” Dean spared Castiel a nervous glance. “What of that? Do you intend to keep that promise to Master Michael?”

“God, I hope I won’t have to. I only said that so he would let you go, but none of that matters now if we can run away together.”

“Would you really have done that for me?”

“Of course, Dean. You mean everything to me. I will still honour that and go through with the marriage if it means you could be free, be happy.”

“Cas.” Dean whispered gently against Castiel’s lips when he leaned towards him. No one ever loved him like that, suddenly feeling the need to show Castiel how much it meant to him. Castiel let Dean pull him down on the moist grass, mouth opening hungrily over Castiel’s in a desperate attempt to show him just how much he wanted them to stay together. “How could I ever be happy if you marry someone else?” Dean gasped between frantic kisses. Feeling the fear start to well up inside him at the very thought of something so unbearable. Castiel was holding his breath, trembling with anticipation when Dean moved over the top of him and slipped his hands underneath Castiel’s body so he could caress his ass with searching fingers. Dean sucked and licked at the soft skin of his neck when Castiel tipped his head back. Gazing at the starlit sky above them through hazy eyes. Castiel let Dean master him. Falling freely into the possessive touches exploring every part of his body. The impetuous need for Dean to make love to him on the soft grass crushed any thought of consequence or the risk of being discovered.

“I’ve wanted you to put your hands on me again for so long.” Dean murmured against Castiel’s throat, dragging his tongue along the curve of his neck and down one shoulder. Nudging the shirt aside with his nose and moving his hand lower to stroke the sensitive stretch of skin just underneath Castiel’s dick with his thumb. He was immediately rewarded with a groan of pleasure that resonated through the air when Castiel felt his hips jerk up into Dean’s waiting palm. “Touch me, Castiel.”

Castiel exhaled Dean’s name with reverence, the only sound cutting through the silence save for the little gasps of want. He reached down to wrap his hand around Dean’s fingers, pulling them up to his face so he could suck their tips into his mouth. 

“I want you to take me.” Castiel whispered. Dean's fingertips twitched against the skin of his lip. He was staring down at Castiel with uncertainty like he was scared he might not be good enough.

“Cas, are you sure?” Dean asked quietly. Castiel just responded by sucking one of Dean’s fingers deeper into his mouth and tonguing the end with a seductive curl. Castiel soon found himself pinned down on his back, still staring up at the night sky. He could feel the press of rough, eager hands undressing him while the fresh breeze stroked his bare skin. Mouth gently falling open when Dean carefully pushed into him for the first time, struggling to gasp in shallow breaths of air while his body accommodated the thick length. Dean could hear the soft moans of unexpected pleasure issue from his lover’s mouth with every new sensation. Castiel never imagined letting another man inside him would be so wonderfully intoxicating, overwhelming surge of love he felt for Dean just intensifying the delicious burn while the damp grass rubbed against the skin of his ass with every thrust. It didn’t take long for Dean to empty into him with a cry. Collapsing on the grass after he slipped free, breathless and sated. Castiel gently rested his head on Dean’s chest while he savoured the unfamiliar feeling of being so full he could hardly speak. Making love to someone he had given his heart to was so different from the dispassionate sex that once darkened Castiel and changed him into something he now hated with everything he had.

“See, I promised I’d show you the stars.” Dean whispered at last, slowly coming down from the sweet drench of pleasure. Castiel laughed softly against Dean’s damp skin while he let the boy wrap his arms around him. Castiel inhaled a deep breath, shivering when another sliver of warm semen pulsed out of him.

“Yes, you did.”

Dean closed his eyes, running his hand up and down Castiel’s arm with loving strokes while he trembled in the embrace. Not sure if it was from the chill air as the evening closed in around them, or because Castiel was overwhelmed by the experience. Dean exhausted everything he had when he spent himself inside Castiel, so he just kissed him tenderly on the cheek and nuzzled his face into the arc of his shoulder while he rubbed at Castiel’s skin to keep him warm. Dean was tempted to ask if he managed to leave his master satisfied, but the way Castiel had come all over his stomach and was now humming approval against Dean’s throat was answer enough.

 

Gabriel concentrated his efforts to visit some of the local contacts at the borders of the county, using the Novak name to justify his interest, even though it was something he abandoned in shame many years ago. He was delighted Dean was recovering so quickly, no longer feeling reluctant to leave him alone while he hunted for news of Sam. On the first night his search yielded nothing. He returned in the morning, weary and saddle-sore. Dean made him some breakfast and asked for news, but Gabriel had little to go on and was struggling to stay positive. Dean had been subjected to some terrible things. Gabriel hated to think Sam was also being mistreated or abused, but his hope was wavering.

Gabriel continued to look for Sam on the pretense he wanted to buy a new slave. By the afternoon of the second day he realized Dean’s description bore an uncanny resemblance to a boy he was offered down at one of the fertile plantations in South Carolina. He looked to be about the right age, and one of the drivers told Gabriel his name and where he had come from almost two years before. Gabriel could only hope it wasn’t a coincidence as he made haste to get back to Dean, unsigned contract still sitting in his saddle bag when he galloped across the county line with as much speed as he dared. He reached the house in a few hours and dismounted quickly before practically running inside with his heart beating fast in his chest. Castiel was sitting quietly in a chair by the fire. Dean’s head was resting on his knees while he stroked the boy’s hair and caressed a line of affectionate touches up and down his back.

“I think I’ve found him, Dean.” Gabriel called out, breathless from the brutal pace of his ride and the pulse of relief knowing he could bring Dean some hope at last. Gabriel grinned wide, gripping Dean’s shoulders to hold him steady when he jumped up from the warm comfort of Castiel’s lap. “I think I’ve found your brother.”


	11. Chapter 11

Castiel felt his heart melt even more when he saw the look of unrestrained bliss shine out on Dean’s face. Gabriel had to keep hold of the boy just to help him stay upright. Castiel never expected his brother to help them at all, let alone he would actually be able to find out where Sam had been taken. Dean’s eyes were impossibly wide. Gabriel could feel him shaking underneath his palms.  


“You have?” Dean could hardly breathe, struggling to form even one coherent sentence. “Sam’s alive?” He asked, waiting for Gabriel to give him a nod of confirmation before turning to search for Castiel over his shoulder. “You hear that, Cas? He’s alright.” Dean’s voice was breaking when the realization finally sunk in. His joy was almost tangible.  


“Yes, Dean.” Castiel answered with a soft smile. “I heard him. I’m so happy for you.” Castiel walked over to his brother and gave his arm a grateful squeeze. “I can’t thank you enough, Gabe. I never thought you would find him so quickly.” Dean was so overcome with emotion he reached blindly for Castiel, clutching at his shirt to pull him closer. Castiel folded his arms around Dean and stroked his hair while the poor boy sobbed like a baby into his shoulder. So many feelings were suddenly unleashed inside him, Dean couldn’t have stopped the tears from flowing even if he tried. “It’s alright, my darling.” Castiel soothed. Dean sighed against him like he released all the air in his body in one desperate breath of relief. “Everything’s going to be alright.”  


There was no longer any doubt just how much Castiel had grown to love Dean. Now hopeful they could really be free from persecution and hold on to the peace they both longed for. Dean finally dried his tears. Gabriel laughed under his breath when Dean forgot himself for a moment and wiped his nose on Castiel’s shirt. Sometimes it was hard to remember such a modest slave boy had been used to living a very different life than the one he was now promised with Castiel. Gabriel couldn't remember a time when he had ever seen his brother so happy, but there was still a hint of fear that wouldn’t go away. Castiel slowly resumed his position by the fire and helped Dean settle next to him so he could rest again. He was still very weak. Making love to Castiel completely wore him out and the excitement of Gabriel’s return had also taken its toll. Dean didn’t argue, eyes soon heavy with weariness when Castiel bent down to kiss his brow. He wrapped one arm around Dean’s shoulders to calm him while they thought about what they could do to try and get Sam back before it was too late. Gabriel waited until he could see Dean’s eyes eventually close shut. He took a seat opposite Castiel and prodded hard at the glowing embers.  


“What do you want me to do?” Gabriel asked at last, resting the poker up against the wall. “I can use my influence if you like, but the Novak name doesn’t have quite the sway it used to, I’m afraid.” Castiel was shaking his head. He had no idea what to do for the best. “The family doesn’t command the same respect it did when father was there, but we have to think of something. I really don’t want you two to be separated again. I know how much you care for each other.” Gabriel added, when he remembered some of the gentle touches he saw pass between them. Dean loved to rest his head in Castiel’s lap, or on his shoulder and Gabriel wondered if it was a subconscious desire to be comforted and petted by someone who adored him. Dean never had any kind of physical affection since the day his mother passed. Finally ready to let himself be loved again. 

“But?” Castiel prompted, before Gabriel had chance to finish what he was going to say. Castiel sensed there was something important playing on his brother’s mind, but Gabriel seemed reluctant to mention it while Dean was still there. He waited until he was fairly convinced the boy had drifted off again, but he couldn’t be certain.  


“But.” Gabriel admitted. “I still think you should stay there until we can be sure no harm will come to him. I know them, Castiel, or at least what I remember. I fear they will come for him, and I don’t even want to think about how that will end.” Gabriel saw the way Dean and Castiel looked at each other, how they had started to sit so much closer together, even when he was there. Suspecting they did much more than talk when he was out on his search for Sam. If Castiel already committed himself to another man like that, then Gabriel knew he had to help them. “I don’t think you should arouse any more suspicion than necessary. Lucifer changed when he grew up. I know there’s probably some spark of decency buried deep inside him somewhere and from what you said, it seems like he wants to go and fight for the cause.”  


“He does.” Castiel agreed. “I believe Michael will go as well, but he is doing it out of duty to our father, nothing more. His heart isn’t in it.” Castiel told Gabriel about some of the things that happened since the slaves were transferred from Michael, but there was also a lot he deliberately kept back. Michael was wrong about Dean being involved in any incitement and Castiel believed him, but he didn’t want Gabriel to doubt his integrity so he said nothing. Castiel smiled, gazing down at Dean with a look of utter trust and devotion. They struggled so hard to be together. Nothing worth fighting for was ever simple and Dean was worth every second of it.  


“Michael is a stubborn bastard, Castiel. I suspect he has kept his own secrets for a long time.” Dean slowly opened his eyes and glanced up at Gabriel. Castiel’s arm was still wrapped around Dean’s shoulders, slowly running his fingers through the finer strands of hair where it fell over his face.  


“What do you mean?” Dean asked with a frown. The memories of his own sexual abuse suddenly came flooding back and he could guess well enough what that meant. Gabriel was startled Dean had been listening to them at all, and didn’t think it was his place to say anything he couldn’t prove. Michael always seemed overly defensive about the intimacy Castiel shared with Dean and never expressed an interest to marry in his own right. That thought brought everything back to the present with a stab of fear when Castiel suddenly remembered they were still expecting him to go through with a wedding which was now only days away. He never even met the girl Michael chose for him and felt sick to his stomach. He had to make sure Dean was safely reunited with Sam before they could leave. Castiel caught Gabriel’s eye, tilting his head towards the door with a subtle warning they should maybe talk about it in private. They discreetly left Dean alone while they moved into the other room so he couldn’t listen in on their conversation. He had a habit of overhearing things he wasn't supposed to.  


“I think I need to tell Dean everything.” Castiel said at last. “If I want to be with him, we shouldn’t have any secrets.”  


“I agree. Whatever you decide, you should decide it together, Castiel. Isn’t that the point?”  


“Yes.” Castiel replied, a wide smile spreading all the way across his face when he thought about spending a lifetime with Dean by his side. “Yes, it is.”  


“Well, I still have the contract in my saddlebag. I’m very worried about how Michael will react though if you just up and disappear together when you get Sam back. You know Dean has no civil rights, Castiel. Not yet, anyway.” He smiled. “It doesn’t matter what you say now. You promised them you would marry and take on the estate, and believe me they will hold you to that. If you don’t, then you might spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder. I know I have.”  


“Then, what can we do?” Castiel begged. Panic evident in the way his voice trembled with concern while they tried to formulate some semblance of a plan to rescue Sam from his current fate before he would have to honour his arrangement with Lucifer.  


“I don’t believe in slavery and I know the tide is turning down south. Many people think like us, Castiel. I don’t imagine it will be too long before the dam bursts.”  


“So you really think our best defense is to just wait and hope the war will turn in our favour?” Castiel looked even more troubled. “I don’t think that’s a risk I am willing to take.”  


“Why don’t you ask Dean?” Gabriel said kindly. “If you trust his judgement then ask him, Castiel. He is your lover, isn’t he?”  


“Yes.” Castiel said quietly, a blush tinting his cheeks with the admission. Gabriel didn’t seem surprised in the slightest. Castiel averted his eyes while he hurried back to Dean. He wasn’t ashamed of being in love with another man, but Gabriel’s unconditional acceptance of it was sometimes overwhelming.  


“Can I speak to you for a moment?” Castiel pleaded, patting Dean gently on the back to encourage him to get up so they could take a walk in the garden together. He needed Dean to understand what he intended to do, desperate to speak with him about their plans for the future. Dean had just as much right to contribute to those decisions if they were going to stay together. “I know I’ve made a lot of promises to you, and I haven’t made good on all of them but I want to be honest with you from now on.” Castiel continued, as they strolled down to the orchard. “I think we should make our decisions together and I need to ask you something. Do you think I should go back and marry that girl so you and Sam can get away?” Dean wasn’t expecting it, and visibly paled at the thought. He couldn’t manage to say anything for a few seconds.  


“Cas.” Dean whispered, struggling to even justify that with an answer. “I can’t.” His eyes filled with tears of pain at the thought of Castiel giving himself to someone else just to make sure he would be safe. “I can’t let you do that, it would be the end of me. I don’t want to be free if it means I have to be without you. Don’t you understand? I love you.”  


“Oh, Dean.” Castiel gasped. He waited so long to hear those words, he couldn’t stop himself from throwing his arms around Dean and holding him tighter than he ever had before while he showered his face with tender kisses. “I just don’t know what to do.” Dean wanted Castiel to be honest about them trying to stay together forever and take their chances. Michael and Lucifer would soon be gone. Now they had Gabriel on their side and that was a powerful incentive.  


Once the decision was made, Gabriel determined they should set off as soon as possible.  


“I think we should all go to save Sam. Our family name still has some influence in the other counties. I’m sure we can persuade his owner we want to move him to our plantation.”  


“I don’t know if Dean is well enough to make a journey like that.” Castiel whispered quietly, his face drawn with concern.  


“Well, I have an idea but I’m not sure it’s one of my better ones.” Gabriel huffed a small laugh. If someone asked him a year ago whether he would ever consider going home, he would have thrown the suggestion back in their face. Gabriel always had a special place in his heart for Castiel and really wanted him to get his happy ending with Dean. He took a deep breath. “I think maybe I should go back with you.” Gabriel said at last. “Go back, resume my place in the family and claim what’s mine.”  


“Gabriel, would you really do that for me… for us?” Castiel gasped in amazement. Knowing how much resolve that would take to return to a home his brother once abandoned in shame without a second glance. “But you hate that place.”  


“Yes. Yes, I do - but I love you, Castiel and I want you and Dean to be free.” Castiel felt his throat tighten with emotion at those words.  


“Thank you, brother. I will do my best not to betray your faith in me.”  


“I’m not worried about that.” Gabriel smiled. “You’re not like them, Castiel. You never were.”  


“I would never have known that if I hadn’t given my heart to someone who has more good in him than anything our life has ever had to offer.” Castiel didn’t expect a reply. They both knew it was true.

Later that evening, Gabriel gave Dean a quick once over to see if he was strong enough to go with them on their quest to try and buy back Sam from his new master. Intending to travel overnight and reach the plantation by dawn to give them enough time to return home and put a stop to the wedding. Gabriel was now determined to take back management of the Novak estate. Castiel was glad his brother deemed Dean fit to ride with them. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him alone again, and couldn't wait to see the look on Dean’s face when they found Sam.  


Their pace was much slower than they first hoped for and the morning sun was already full in the sky when they eventually reached their destination. Gabriel went ahead to try and seal the bargain while Castiel waited with Dean at the edge of the pasture with his hand over his eyes, straining to scan the blurry faces of many men who were already hard at work on the land.  


Dean was standing by the side of the cornfield, unable to move a single step forward when his gaze eventually fell on a familiar figure. Sam was plucking at the golden husks, long hair tied back with a worn strip of leather. His skin looked almost golden brown in places, a testament to many hours spent outside in the fields. Castiel imagined he would look very different after a hot bath and a good meal inside him. He remembered how he once thought the same about Dean and how much their lives had changed since then.  


“Dean?” Castiel urged. “Is it him? Is that your brother?”  


The heat of the sun was beating down on the boy's back and glistening where it reflected off the thin layer of sweat already starting to cover his shoulders. Sam might have grown a lot since the last time Dean saw him, but his silhouette was unmistakable and Dean would have known him anywhere. The joy burst through his chest at the sight while he watched Sam try to straighten up. Painfully weary and strained for someone so young it almost broke Dean’s heart. Castiel had to hold him back from running off across the fields. Dean just wanted to tell Sam everything would be alright and take away all the pain that was so evident in the curve of his back and the way he dragged a tired hand across his brow.  


It took every scrap of restraint to stop Dean surging forward, reaching for Castiel again when it was obvious someone had been called to take Sam off the land. He dropped his corn scythe and plodded away in the opposite direction until he slowly disappeared from view. Dean was desperate for the comfort of Castiel’s hand in his own while they waited anxiously to know if Gabriel managed to secure possession of the boy. Dean almost collapsed against Castiel’s side when he finally saw Sam and Gabriel coming down the path lining the edge of the field. Sam could hardly believe he was suddenly looking at the face of a brother he never imagined he would see again. His expression stayed completely blank with shock when he realized all his suffering might truly be at an end. They could see him mouth Dean’s name in amazement before he started to run as fast as he could through the many rows of swaying stalks that still separated them. All weariness seemed to leave him when he hurtled over the rough ground and fell shaking into Dean’s arms.  


Dean was secretly concerned Sam got abused the way he had, but the thought was so terrible he couldn’t bear to ask him outright. Castiel saw the sadness behind the light in his lover’s eyes and knew what he was thinking without a word having to pass between them. The shame of his past decisions to use and subdue the boys on the estate and beat them into submission still haunted him inside, but he would have to let it go if he wanted their lives to move forward. Dean gave him a soft smile, curling his hand around Castiel’s fingers where they were still twisted together. He forgave his former master many days ago for his transgressions, longing for Castiel to understand how important each new dawn was to mark the first day of the rest of their lives together. It meant a clean slate for both of them. Dean didn’t need to say it. The simple and affectionate touch of his hand around Castiel’s was all that was needed. Calming his master's fears and showing that man how much Dean wanted to be with him, no matter what had gone before. Castiel treated him with respect and dignity since his admission he loved him more than anything in the world. There was nothing that could ever change the way they felt about each other.

Gabriel wasn’t sure how his return to the family estate would be received, so he sent word they would be arriving the next day. Intending to help take over the management of the estate in their father’s absence. Dean and Sam would stay hidden away in the stables until Gabriel took back his position so it was safe for them to return under the banner of his protection. Michael and Lucifer were already expecting them when they rode in through the gate. Lucifer raised one hand in greeting. Michael seemed unusually anxious when he quietly took Castiel to one side.  


“I don’t like this, Castiel. Gabe has been gone a long time and I don't know if we can trust him. We have no choice but to leave one of you in charge of the estate and it has become abundantly clear it is a responsibility you no longer want.”  


“Michael.” Castiel said gently. He could see the defeat in his brother’s eyes like he understood there was a chance he was going to his death. Castiel couldn’t deny what he said was true. Whatever they did to him in the past was washed away when Castiel realized Michael would never know the joy of true happiness in the way he had with Dean. The love of that boy had changed him beyond recognition and Castiel couldn’t imagine his life without him.  


“Don’t, Castiel. I don’t want to hear it.” Michael answered, with that cold inflection of failure that now ran through every vein in his body. Long since given up on trying to run his brother’s life for him or marry him off. Somewhere deep inside there was a thread of envy that ran deeper than the superficial indifference he mastered since his father left the year before. Castiel didn’t know what else to say. He couldn’t believe Michael no longer had any intention of pursuing the idea, but neither of them were the same men they were before Dean Winchester. “I don’t doubt you and Gabriel will do right by the boys that work here.” Michael hesitated for a second and looked away. “There’s one boy I want you to take special care of when I’m gone. It’s my bondservant. Look after him for me, please. I know he’s only a slave but he has served me well.” Castiel saw the pain in his brother’s desperation. He finally understood completely. “Promise me, Castiel.”  


Michael had been so defensive and bitter about Castiel’s love for Dean. It all became clear now. He was too scared to take his own shot at happiness because of their father. Michael apparently convinced himself he would never get that chance now. There was a deep sadness behind his eyes when he spoke of that boy. Castiel recognized that look first-hand. He knew in that moment Michael was not so very different. Castiel actually felt sorry for him. So conditioned by a life of bigotry it would be almost impossible to erase.  


“I promise, Michael.” Castiel said softly, touching his brother’s arm in unspoken understanding. “I will make sure he is well provided for. Maybe when you come back we should talk about this.”  


Michael laughed, but it was hollow and sad. Castiel thought that was the exact moment when all hope left him for good. Michael believed in his heart he wouldn’t be coming back, but just nodded and left Castiel alone again with his thoughts. Castiel made a promise to Dean and he wasn’t going to break it. Gabriel had saved them and there was nothing Castiel could ever do that would repay that debt to his brother.  


Michael and Lucifer had more pressing matters to fill their time. Preparing to leave for the cape while Castiel looked out across the vineyard he once surveyed with a much darker heart. The carriage was already parked up in front of the house and some of the servants were busy loading some modest belongings onto the back. Lucifer and Gabriel were standing close together on the path, deep in conversation. Lucifer already told the slaves they would soon have one of their former masters reinstated in his position on the plantation and they would of course be expected to serve him with as much loyalty as they had always done. Castiel didn’t know how to feel. There were so many things he wanted to say to them but a lifetime of keeping his emotions locked away inside had left a deep scar. Dean was the only one who ever managed to set any of them free at all.  


Michael and Lucifer were soon gone and Gabriel had taken the estate in the name of his father. There was still a concern everything would be very different if Lucifer returned one day, but nothing was certain and Gabriel was prepared to take on that responsibility for now. Castiel brought Dean and Sam up from the stables and they all stood together, watching in silence while Gabriel gazed up at the impressive stonework.  


“It could be really beautiful, you know.”  


“Maybe in happier times, Gabriel.” Castiel sighed. “Father may return someday.”  


“Yes, he may. But until then, this is my house and you are both welcome to stay here for as long as you want.” Gabriel saw a look of nervous uncertainty in Dean’s eyes. Even though they were shining, he seemed strangely reluctant to accept such a generous offer. Gabriel immediately guessed why. “Sam, too.” He added with a smile, and Dean’s mouth gradually spread from a thin line of doubt into a wide grin. Reaching for Castiel so he could take his hand in support. Part of him was still unwilling to go back to somewhere that caused him so much pain, but if he never got transferred that day, he would never have known Castiel. The man who would turn out to be the true love of his life. Dean knew his former master would do anything he could to protect him.  


“Gabriel.” Dean gasped. “Thank you. I would be honoured, and forever in your debt.”  


“You’ve been spending too much time with my brother, Mr. Winchester.” Gabriel laughed. “A simple word of thanks is more than sufficient.”  


Dean thrust one hand into Gabriel’s and shook it gratefully in acceptance. Never imagining he would one day return to a place that still haunted his nightmares. With Castiel by his side, Dean felt stronger than ever and wanted to walk back up those cold grey steps with Castiel’s hand in his own and his head held high. Once they would have run from the threat of people who wanted to tear them apart but fate had made that decision for them with the arrival of the war and the depth of love they had for each other. Dean wasn’t afraid anymore.  


“Thanks.”  


“Come on, Dean.” Castiel smiled, drawing his lover towards him. He settled his hands on either side of the boy’s waist while he leaned in to give him a long slow kiss that made Dean tremble all the way down his body. “Let’s go home.”


	12. Chapter 12

Just those three simple words made Dean feel like he was suddenly drenched in warm sunshine. Everything that came after seemed like some impossible dream when Gabriel ushered them all inside. Castiel couldn’t wait to pull Dean all the way up the stairs to their rooms. He refused to let go of his hand, even for a second. Castiel opened the door and took a moment to survey the familiar space that was once so empty without his bondslave there to hold him at night. Quickly pulled away from all those distracting thoughts when he saw Dean’s eyes glaze over, fixed on the dishevelled pile of sheets that once served as a modest cot for the man who would now share his bed, his heart and his life. Everything was just as he left it on that fateful day when he got taken back to the slave camp where Dean once believed the cramped and dirty hut would be the terrible place where he would take his last breath. Castiel could sense what Dean was thinking and gently tugged him away from the middle of the room, wrapping both arms around his back.  


“Don’t think about it.” Castiel whispered against the side of his face, slowly dropping his hands so he could slide them around Dean’s waist. The delicate touch easily drew his gaze away from such a dark memory. Dean blinked and smiled down at Castiel, eyes full of happy tears. “This is where you will sleep from this moment on.” Castiel added, gently tilting his head towards the bed where he spent many lonely nights cold and alone, pining for the love he thought he lost. “Next to me.” Castiel turned back to give Dean a lustful wink, impulsively dragging his boy down on top of him on the soft comfort of his downy mattress. They rolled around on the satin sheets with their mouths locked together like they didn’t have a care in the world. Dean kissed back with a passion that burned away inside him for so long it was like a firestorm when he finally allowed himself to give in to all the desire he had for Castiel. Sucking and licking his way down the bare skin of Castiel’s neck where his shirt had slipped from one shoulder and exposed the soft skin of his throat. They were deep in an erotic embrace when they heard a subtle cough from the hallway. Dean’s eyes flicked up. He lifted himself a little higher, curling his body forward in a futile attempt to hide his arousal.  


“Sam.” Dean gasped, mouth still wet and shining from the kisses he smeared down Castiel’s body. The poor boy was scarlet up to his ears, pretending to have a sudden interest in the matting beneath his feet.  


“Come in, Sam.” Castiel said kindly, giving Dean an affectionate smile before he finally released his hold on him. Sam dared a hesitant step over the threshold, fidgeting aimlessly with the hem of his sleeve. “If your brother doesn’t mind too much, I think you might have to get used to that.” Dean pushed himself completely off the bed, his own blush now tinting his face with a wash of colour. He pulled his shirt down and crossed the room to take Sam by the arm.  


“Come on, buddy. Let’s go find you a room of your own where you can rest without being scarred for life.”  


Castiel laughed under his breath, shaking his head while he watched Dean pull his brother back down the hall. A few days ago he might have recoiled at such a terrible choice of words, but he knew Dean had endured his last strike. Castiel would protect him with his life if necessary. He would never let anyone touch Dean like that again.  


With Michael and Lucifer gone, the changes were quick to impact on every part of the Novak estate and Gabriel proved to be even better than his word. He released all the men from forced service and asked many of them to stay on and invest their days in building a row of modest houses for those who were now under his protection and part of his new workforce. They were no longer regarded as slaves, and would receive a small salary and the promise they could continue to live there in the grounds and work for the family. Gabriel hoped the men would now be more inclined to toil away the long hours, and the vineyard might soon be filled with the sound of happy voices while the rows of swollen fruit were harvested with care.  


Even after Gabriel’s announcement, a small part of Castiel was still scared Dean might choose to run away with Sam so they could be safe together. He looked down from his balcony to see some of the men Gabriel set free making their way back north to be reunited with their families. Castiel’s eyes were desperately searching for Dean in the gardens. Just for a single moment in time, one last remnant of doubt flickered before it was gone forever. He couldn’t see Dean anywhere and his heart was pumping with fear. A treacherous thought surfaced to torment him. Maybe Dean had taken the opportunity to go without saying goodbye, valuing his own liberty and taking Sam with him. Some of the free slaves were scattered across the plantation and walking away into the distance. Castiel scanned the swarm of men as he watched them leave, a fleeting rush of panic causing him to run from the verandah and down the stairs. He stopped at the end of the path to catch his breath, passed by many figures slowly moving away and being lost to the countryside in every direction. Dean was only making sure the men were safely off the plantation before heading back up to the house. Castiel couldn’t breathe while he waited anxiously to catch sight of him. Then he heard Dean shout his name. He was running up the main avenue, pushing the other men aside to make his way through the throng and back into Castiel’s arms. Blue eyes studied Dean’s face, relief flowing through Castiel's body. Once there was a tragic loneliness reflected there, but now all the lifelessness was erased by the love Dean had given him. Memories of that dusty grain store had tainted Castiel's conscience and haunted him since that moment. Now the past was washed away forever when he knew Dean chose to stay with him, even when he didn’t have to.  


“I thought… just for a minute, Dean. I thought you might have gone with them.” Castiel murmured into Dean’s hair, holding him tight against his chest.  


“I know I told you once I would find a way to get out of that life.” Dean replied. He always prided himself on being able to hide his emotions well when he endured those many indignities, but there was no reason to pretend anymore, and he openly showered Castiel with affection. “But now I have my freedom, I don’t want it. I want to be here, with you.”  


“Dean, that’s all I want, too.” Castiel blinked slowly, finding himself being drawn back into that hypnotic gaze while everything else just faded away. They shared a long, deep kiss before heading back inside.  


Sam spent the rest of the day wandering around the house and gardens, completely lost and finding it very difficult to detach from years of blind obedience. Dean was worried a culture shock like that might be too much for his brother and shared his concerns with Castiel while they prepared for bed that evening. Dean was no longer tortured by the pain of not knowing if Sam got used or beaten like he had. Sam got worked until he was broken and sore, but that was all. Dean just wanted to put the young boy’s mind at ease and give him the peace and security he never had. Castiel did his best to comfort Dean by reaching between the sheets and pulling him closer while they stared uncertainly at each other through the amber flicker of candlelight.  


“I always said you had beautiful eyes.” Dean smiled. More than willing to let Castiel caress the bottom of his back and the round curves of his ass. “I intend to lose myself in those, Cas. Forever.” Dean was desperate to let Castiel take him again, but this time with every touch and kiss filled with devotion and care. Dean held a breath against soft lips while he slid one hand in between Castiel’s legs and stroked his fingers along his skin until he could feel him grow hard against their tips. “I want you to make love to me.”  


“Dean, are you sure?” Castiel whispered. He kissed Dean's mouth again. The last memory of being inside him remained a dark stain of shame on his conscience but now Dean was begging for Castiel to take him again, it was all he needed to accept forgiveness for every last part of it. Dean was so pliant under his hands, Castiel couldn’t hold back any longer and pushed Dean down onto his back, dipping his head to nudge his legs apart so he could kiss along the inside of his thighs. Dean inhaled a sharp breath when he felt the curl of a wet tongue slide inside him. Giving himself over to Castiel’s gentle touch, while he prepared Dean with soft hums of encouragement. They made love slowly, every slide of their bodies rubbing against each other felt like something new and wonderful. Castiel soon emptied himself inside Dean with a rush of pleasure before collapsing against his chest.  


Castiel eventually pulled out and eased Dean carefully on to his side, wrapping both arms around him while he fell into a restful sleep. Castiel always wondered what could be out there in the world that lay beyond those high brick walls. Now he had witnessed true beauty and learned to appreciate the things that really mattered. Everything he ever owned meant nothing compared to hearing the soft breaths of sleep while Dean lay next to him in their bed. Feeling the touch of a warm hand in his own. His conscience got buried deep, but it had won through in the end and now he just needed to redeem himself in his own mind and do what was right for all those who trusted him. Those who believed in the goodness in his heart as much as Dean did. Castiel once felt like he was already dead but now the plantation was their haven, a home he would build with Dean by his side. Never imagining he would cherish life like that. Castiel vowed to make sure he told his brother every day how thankful he was for saving them. Gabriel would never say a word in response. Watching them together and seeing the way Castiel always looked at Dean with so much love in his eyes he might have been a supreme deity to be worshipped was reward enough. 

Gabriel called them all into his study on the second evening. Castiel and Dean were standing together by the window, as close as anyone could be. He smiled at his brother when Sam walked through the door. He barely recognized Dean. He was clean and well dressed. All the years of pain and suffering seemed to have been effortlessly cleansed away. The only signs of his past were the fading scars that were branded into his skin and hidden beneath his shirt. He looked so young and fresh, green eyes sparkling with the joy of being able to touch Castiel without any fear of recrimination. Sam stood rigid by the entrance, both hands clasped firmly behind his back with his head dropped low.  


“You don’t need to do that, Sam.” Gabriel smiled. “Come here. There’s something I want to give you.” Sam hesitated, looking over to Dean for support. He nodded, encouraging Sam to step forward so he could see what Gabriel was holding. “I want you to understand you are free to come and go as you please here. You are not a possession, Sam. You are my friend and as my brother’s consort, Dean has been given the same privileges and rights on our estate as I now offer to you.” He beckoned Sam closer with a simple wave and handed him a piece of fading parchment. “Here. This is the contract that says I own you.” Gabriel added, and Sam flinched. “You misunderstand me. I don’t want it. This was the only way of getting you away from that place.” Dean was watching them closely. He trusted Gabriel implicitly, but had no real idea of where the conversation was headed. Sam looked so nervous, Dean half-expected him to collapse right there. “Rip it up, Sam. I want you to do it.”  


Dean didn’t think he could possibly love Gabriel any more. He always held on to enough hope to trust his life would one day be different and all his suffering would not have been for nothing. Everything he ever wanted was right there in front of him and he would have lived it all over again if he knew one day he would be able to save his brother. All he ever did was built on Dean's unwavering faith he would have the chance to see Sam one more time. From that first day when he arrived at the Novak plantation in bonds, he believed all his sacrifices would be worth it one day. In that moment when Sam tore the contract in half with trembling hands, Dean knew he would have taken each injustice, borne every last blow to see that look on his brother’s face when he finally understood what it meant to be free.  


As the days passed, Dean and Sam slowly learned to accept they were now able to make their own choices in life. Gabriel cleared Dean of all the unfounded accusations Michael had thrown in his direction for whatever twisted purpose he deemed necessary at the time. Maybe to make sure a few of the more rebellious slaves were permanently removed from his care. Dean was actually one of the best workers they had and always accepted his place. For some reason Michael had seen him as a threat and it sealed his fate. Falling for Castiel was something he never expected, but now Dean couldn’t imagine he could ever love anyone the way he loved his Cas.

The Confederacy finally surrendered to the Union later that year and the war was over at last, but so much blood had been spilled the country would never be the same. Slavery continued in some states for a while and too many families were left decimated and forgotten. The struggle for basic resources like food and shelter was still as prevalent as ever, but there was hope in the air again with the knowledge people had the freedom to make their own paths through a life they never expected. The Novak plantation was no different. Gabriel and Castiel continued to run their estate well, even before the slavery laws finally came into force. Gabriel never expected he would end up staying there but it was his home, and a much better place than it ever was under their father’s rule. Once the slave line had also been the most important thing to Lucifer, and now it all seemed so pointless. Nothing was ever gained from it. More harm done than good. Michael never said anything about his fondness for his own servant before. Maybe because his father always ignored what was happening to some of the other slaves, and maybe not. Castiel wondered if he would ever truly know his brother, but it didn’t really matter. There was something good there now that kept the men going. 

One chill morning in the early months of Fall they received a letter informing them Lucifer had been lost, killed in the line of duty at his father’s side. Michael was injured and on his way home, likely to be back before the week was out. Gabriel took the news much harder than anyone expected. It was a cruel blow to know he would never be able to mend those damaged relationships or get the chance to see Lucifer or his father one last time.  


When Michael returned, he was almost unrecognizable. He looked pale and drawn, his cheeks hollow and his eyes empty. There was a desperate weariness to him, so evident in the way his body curved under the weight of the loss of his brother and the terrible things he saw on the bloody battlefield. Gabriel and Castiel were waiting on the path for him when the carriage drew up. Some of the men who worked in the house gathered in front of the entrance. Castiel noticed Michael’s faithful bondservant was waiting anxiously on the step, eyes frantically searching out his master as he stepped down from the plate. His war-worn boots crunched on the gravel when he landed, echoing in the silence of the still morning surrounding the small company. Mute witnesses to something none of them ever really understood. Michael hesitated, almost frozen in time while he scanned the familiar sight with bleary eyes. He seemed to be completely devoid of any emotion. His boy slowly edged closer until he was standing rigid in front of him, young face lined with sadness. Castiel let out a breath of sympathy when he lifted up one hand to touch his master’s face with the same adoring look in his eyes Castiel often saw in Dean, hardly believing this was the same man who left him only a few weeks before. Michael stayed as still as stone when a pair of slender arms reached up to wrap around his neck. Michael suddenly collapsed against him, letting that boy hold him close for a long time while silent tears rolled down his face with his eyes closed, a broken man. Castiel hoped time might make Michael realize only love could truly heal him. Gone were the constraints of his father’s legacy of bigotry, so he might one day be able to take a chance at his own happiness. The war and the love Castiel had for Dean made Michael question his conscience and his own mortality. Life proved too short to turn away from following his heart. Learning from bitter experience you can’t help who you fall in love with. Castiel moved towards him to place a tender touch against his brother’s shoulder before helping him to limp inside. They soon learned Lucifer had been killed bravely protecting another soldier, a young lad who was terrified of facing the enemy. He was buried with honour next to the body of their father on the field of battle.  


Michael might have come back, but he was forever changed and had no desire to go back to his old ways. He didn’t seem to care much about anything anymore, leaving the mastery of the estate to his brothers. He had already seen too much death, and seemed content to let Dean stay there with Castiel. Together they did their best to take care of him and he never intervened again. Michael finally accepted Dean and Castiel's love for each other was something he should have just left well enough alone. Nothing he could have said or done would ever have stopped them wanting to be together. Dean stayed with Castiel as a partner, not a slave. They spent a great part of the rest of their lives campaigning for equal rights and freedom for all men.  


Michael never said another word about Dean. He let many days just pass him by, sitting in the orchard with his bondservant. Castiel suspected there was a much deeper love there than anyone guessed. Hoping maybe one day Michael would allow himself to feel that in his heart when all the hatred and prejudice were gone. The events in the north had changed him forever, and the loss of Lucifer hit him hard. His only comfort was knowing his brother had finally redeemed himself and fought well, bringing honour and respect back to their name and securing Gabriel’s place as head of the family. Dean and Castiel’s home would now be a sanctuary where people would never be scared to follow their dreams or be forever bound by an ancient law that no longer had any place there.  


Another evening passed in calm contentment while Castiel held Dean close against his body that night after they made love again, just like he always did. The sheen on his hot skin let Dean’s fingers slide easily over every single part of him with an unusually possessive caress that made Castiel melt into his touch. They lay together in the darkness, the only sounds the soft breaths of passion finally fading. Dean stretched out on his back and heaved a blissful sigh while his swollen desire subsided. He soon got out of bed and slipped on Castiel’s shirt. The only thing he had to protect his modesty while he stood on the balcony, looking out across his lands with a humility Castiel couldn’t help but admire. The shirt was hanging from his shoulders when it was caught by a gentle night breeze drifting in through the open window and Castiel could just make out the graceful lines of Dean's body in the moonlight, perfect curves of his ass just visible beneath the hem. Dean didn’t even have to ask Castiel to come to his side. He was standing next to him in an instant, threading their fingers together while he led him further out onto their verandah. Castiel once promised he would never leave Dean again and now he didn’t think he could, even if he wanted to. He was sure Dean felt the same, but sometimes Castiel needed to hear it.  


“I don’t want you to think you have to stay with me out of loyalty, or that I would ever keep you here against your will.”  


Dean gave a soft laugh. 

“Never.” He replied, and they curled into each other with their heads tilted up towards the sky. Holding hands while the magnolia-scented breeze caressed Dean’s face and reminded him of how wonderful it felt to be truly free. Not just from the back-breaking drudgery of working on the land, but free to love Castiel without having to be ashamed of how much he wanted to share his bed with another man. A man he loved with all his heart. Dean turned to look at Castiel so he could see the honesty shining behind his eyes. “Maybe once it felt like that, but not now.” Dean reached up and slowly drew one finger down the curve of Castiel’s cheek, dark stubble on his jaw moving gently under his fingertips. “Now, I’m here by choice. I’m here because I love you.” Dean added. Castiel closed his eyes and drank in those words until they felt like they had settled deep inside his soul. “I couldn’t have saved my brother without you, or Gabe.” Dean said quietly, leaning in even more and resting his head on Castiel’s shoulder. Dean tenderly stroked his arm. “Thank you, Cas. Thank you for setting me free.”  


“You’re the one who set me free.” Castiel smiled. “I didn’t know love could feel like this. It's me who should be thanking you, Dean. For everything.” 

They stood quietly together under the stars for a long time, stealing each other’s warmth and knowing that never again would anyone suffer injustice at the hands of any masters of their estate.


End file.
